Day Man
by Darkglare
Summary: This relates to the OC of Dusty, Godric's day man, in Becoming Involved.  It's some back story for Godric in Dallas pre-Revelation.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Author's Note: I think I'm on True Blood overdrive. This relates to the OC of Dusty, Godric's day man, in Becoming Involved. It's some back story for Godric in Dallas pre-Revelation. I realized I was quickly approaching Season 3, and wanted to wait to see the conclusion before publishing something I'd regret. I'm not a fan of a sudden 'oh, btw, such and such was there all along, didn't you know?' when it should have been mentioned earlier in the story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 1**

Dusty had been discharged after his injury. Still got medical care for free too. Didn't help much. Head injuries being what they were. Brains are delicate things, not that Dusty used his much. He was a sniper, or had been a Marine Recon sniper. Got to Vietnam in 1966, and sent out on a stretcher in 1968.

Before that he didn't like school much and worked on a ranch instead, till he thought about enlisting at 17, but didn't get around to it until he was 18. Better than getting drafted.

Now, he wasn't supposed to go back to ranch work. He didn't like city living much, but at least Dallas was still in Texas. He could drive out of the city to see the sky when he wanted. Look at the stars.

Driving a delivery truck was something he could handle. Paid the bills. Paid the rent on something large enough for him to Dusty his arms out in. Gave him a couple dollars extra too for when he lost the job and had to get another.

His wants were simple. Always had been. Just a choice between what he'd spend the evening with – Mad Dog 20/20 or Thunderbird, JD, Jimmy Beam, the Captain, Johnny Walker, or Wild Turkey. Damn the hangover. Who cared about tomorrow?

He liked Stan at the liquor store. That's why Dusty went at night, when Stan worked. He was a man's man. Understood things like the open range, man working outdoors, war, what a man needed to do. Stan wasn't all there, and laughed at some weird things. Like some punk hippie kid who thought he could rob him one night while Dusty was choosing his date for the evening. When Dusty heard the boy's squeaky demand, he had come forward to help.

Stan's voice got all cold after he had a laugh, and told the little shit to drop his gun. The gun got dropped. The hippie soiled his pants. Then Stan looked at Dusty, winked, and said, "Boo." Dusty laughed as the kid ran out and hoped he kept running till he hit California. Stan liked that one. California.

Dusty thought he was going to see something else as he followed some young fellow into the store about a week later. Pressed slacks, white dress shirt, good hair cut, rather than the long hair that was currently popular … maybe he was going to offer Stan a copy of the Watchtower.

Inside, under the lights, Dusty saw he wasn't even close to eighteen. Probably was shaving three times a day to try to get something to grow. No even a hint of a shadow on his sickly, pale face.

Dusty headed into his aisle to make a selection, but kept an eye on the kid. Stan had mirrors up in the corners to spot shoplifters. The teen did not go into the store itself, but was standing near the counter. Did Stan sell liquor to minors? Even if he did, it was kind of late for this one to be out, and not looking street savvy. Clothes like that screamed, 'beat me and rob me'.

He made his purchase, and decided to hang around. Obviously the kid was sticking around till he left, and Stan had not given the boy the 'no loitering' speech.

The young man, because that is what he was, looked at him with red-rimmed blue eyes, and clearly said, "Please take your purchase and leave the store. Continue on your way. Forget you saw me."

Dusty felt odd, like someone gave his shoulder a bit of a push as he body bent back from the waist, wanting to head in the direction of the door.

"You speaking to me?" he asked.

The boy looked to Stan, and Stan replied, "Dusty's okay, sheriff."

"He's yours?"

"Oh no. No, no. Just don't worry about, Dusty. He can't be influenced."

The boy looked at Dusty and asked, "You were injured?"

Dusty frowned. He didn't know who this was to go asking personal questions like that.

"Yeah," Star answered. "War. So what do you want, or you going to lurk about all night? You can sweep, if you have nothing better to do. I can't let you move the stock around."

The young man gave Dusty a long glare before he spoke, but then started speaking some Commie language, and Stan answered him. Dusty could tell they were not agreeing about something, and he knew enough to tell that 'Isabel' was a woman. Was Isabel the boy's mom, and Stan … well, Dusty supposed Stan had a life outside of leaning on a counter all night.

Stan threw his hands up in the air, and growled, "Why Czech? Can't we speak in something I'm fluent in? And I'm telling you up front, my Polish is not so good either."

"Deutsch?" Godric asked, knowing that to be Stan's native language. He did not use it much because too many people knew it.

"German?" Dusty asked. He did not speak it, but who didn't know a few words of German?

"You cannot leave?" the boy asked. "I am not here to purchase anything."

Stan agreed, "He never does, Dusty. I'll see you tomorrow."

Dusty nodded and went outside. He went across the street and got out from under the street light. There was something odd about this, even if the kid did not come out with anything.

His eyesight was still excellent. Through the window, whatever the boy said got Stan upset enough to come out from behind the counter and tower over him, glaring down. Dusty frowned. It was going to be a short fight, but Stan did not touch him. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked angry. That faded as they talked more, and eventually Stan nodded and the boy walked out of the store.

Dusty stood still as the teen looked directly across the street to where he was standing in the shadow of a stairwell, and crossed, heading towards him.

When he got to the curb, Dusty heard him clearly ask, "Are you waiting for me, Dusty?"

Not seeing the point of hiding any longer, Dusty took a step forward and replied, "I guess I am. I didn't think Stan was lying about selling you liquor, but who really knows anyone these days?"

"What would you have done if he had?"

"Try to tell you that it's not an answer to whatever problem you're having at home."

The boy had stopped directly under the street light. Between his pallor and the shirt, it was not a pretty sight. He repeated, "At home? What do you mean?"

"You were arguing with Stan about a woman. Since you're not the same age, I'm guessing your mother." 

"You got the part about us not being the same age correct, Dusty."

"Are you going to keep using my name, and not say yours, or is it really sheriff, as Stan said?"

"My name is Godric. Are you interested in working for Stan?" 

"Hell, no. Standing around, selling beer? I got to move."

"Do you already work?"

"I got a job."

"Do you like it?"

"It's a job."

"I'll keep that in mind, Dusty," Godric said, and started walking.

"I don't know what you do, but I don't like it."

"I agree. I do not like visiting someone personally for a chat about manners and respect, but I do like Stan."

"You're walking alone this time of night?"

"Yes, but do not worry, I will not be out on the street long, Dusty. Good night."

Dusty blinked. Wearing a white shirt, Godric should have been visible wherever he walked, but he no longer saw him.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 2**

Stan brought up the odd boy's visit first, during Dusty's nightly visit to the liquor store, when no other customers were in the store, about a month later.

"Dusty, you're not interested in working for me, are you?"

"Stan, what's this about? Godric asked me the same thing." 

"Godric?" he repeated in surprise. "Aw shit, I said his name while you were in here?"

"No, he told me when he came across the street."

"Good. He's a bit strange 'bout his name. I can understand the pictures. I think they're right that there's gonna be cameras everywhere one day."

"Who's they?"

"Never mind … so you don't consider yourself with me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You made an impression. Might not lead to anything, but during my weekly call, his uh … deputy asked about you special. You like what you're doing now?"

"It's a job." Dusty was about to lose it, if he missed another day or showed up late, but there was always another.

"Let me start by saying you're a real good customer, Dusty … so here's the but with a capital 'B'. Why are you such a good customer?"

"Stan?" Dusty responded. There was some things guys could talk about, and other they didn't ask about. And Stan never seemed like the sort to ask. He was a real man. And real men did not discuss their feeling or problems like a bunch of women. They were men.

"Look, I'm not usually the one in this position. I snake 'em from someone else," he explained with a laugh, "once they already know. Some can't handle knowing. Even a little bit. Those are the sort we gotta make forget. That can't happen to you. That's why you're something."

"Know what? And what do you mean by something?"

"Okay, let's see if I can give you an idea here … there's all this," Stan said with a wave of his arm to indicate the store. "You, the people you know, even me, and the things we do each day. Then there's the weird things that maybe someone thinks they see, and can't prove. I can be weird. Others can be weird. As long as we're careful, none of you all here know it."

"What the hell are you talkin' about? The sick kind of girly shows, or UFOs?"

Stan smiled, "Oooh, I like that UFO analogy. Yeah, like that, but not so stupid. That too weird for you? We don't got to talk about it anymore, if it is."

"So uh … you like a body snatcher sort? 'Cause you look normal, and act okay."

"No, this is me in the flesh. Nothing can be changed about that. I guess I'll take it as a compliment that I look normal … but uh, Godric's not trying too hard. Did you notice?"

"He was too young to be in here, and looked like his mother picked out his clothes."

"That's harsh, man, but goes to prove that humans try to rationalize the unusual. Anyway, I don't think I'll say anymore now, except I'm not a space monster and neither is anyone else you see coming in here to see me."

"Wait, how can you bring up something like this, and then say you don't want to talk about it?"

Stan chuckled, "So I got your interest? If I'm asked, I'll let them know 'cross town. Don't want to seem too eager to dive into weird shit, or you'll end up pushed off a bridge, Dusty."

"I'm not looking for a job, Stan, and I'm not going to work for some kid."

"What kid? Didn't I just say something about the unexplainable? Appearances are deceiving."

Weeks went by. Dusty lost a job, but got another. Not so good since he had to do the loading and unloading too. When Stan said nothing more, Dusty thought he may have been joking around with him. There was nothing weird about Stan, unless it was his sense of humor or working nights.

Dusty was going with the Johnny Walker Black when Stan mentioned, "Can you come in at a certain time any night?"

"Why?" 

"Bit of an interview."

"For what?"

"A menial job running errands. If you don't want it, just fuck up the interview. Both the bitch and Godric are picky so it won't be hard to get passed over."

"I have a job."

"From what you said about it, I think you can do this one too."

"I don't know, Stan."

"Don't worry about me, if you don't want to do it. The woman that will come to talk to you will probably make your mind up for you. She's a piece of work. She'll speak for Godric, but don't take it to mean the words come from him."

"You think I should talk to her?" 

"That, yes. I think until you are in the 'yes' or 'no' column, she'll hound me. She's a royal pain, even when Godric forgets he even mentioned something. So tomorrow too soon for you?"

"Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, 'fore she comes by on another of her rounds."

"I guess. You'll be here?"

"Yeah, but she'll probably want to talk to you alone. In my office, most likely."

"Office?"

"Yeah, it's where all the paperwork's kept."

"But it's your office?"

"I own this place, so yeah, I guess it's mine."

"If you own it, Stan, why do you work at night?"

"That's when the interesting people come in, Dusty. Let me get a time and day out of her."

Stan picked up a phone behind the counter and dialed a number.

"Isabel in?

"Hola, mamacita."

Stan held the phone away from his ear and smiled.

"Hey, stop with the pillow talk and listen … Dusty's willing to talk to you. Why don't you come by tomorrow around ten?

"Land's sake, woman … save your jawin' for then."

Stan hung up and shook his head. "It's not easy being this good looking."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 3**

Dusty got to the liquor store early. Stan had warned that if he was late, he could not be held responsible for his actions. At the very least, Dusty was looking forward to an interesting evening, and if not, he'd make it home in time for Johnny Carson.

The bell on the door jangled at ten sharp. A dark-haired woman, dressed professionally in a white blouse, grey skirt, black nylons and black shoes with heels, entered. Dusty thought she was good-looking. Too good-looking for here.

"Stan, some human regurgitated on the sidewalk outside," she said in a heavily accented voice. Dusty thought it was dang sexy.

"You've never liked the ambiance here, Isabel."

"I like nothing about you."

Stan laughed like she was flirting with him, and said, "This is Dusty. Dusty, this is Isabel."

This was the woman Godric spoke of with Stan the first time Dusty saw him.

"Good evening, Dusty," she said, but did not extend her hand. "Godric is interested in having you run errands for him."

"I'm not too sure about that. I'm not looking to break the law."

Isabel pulled her head back, "Stan, what did you tell him? Dusty, these are simple errands. Not dark alleys with suspenseful music playing in the background."

"Does Godric already have something in mind, or general day running?" Stan asked.

Isabel switched to Spanish. Godric had a lot on his mind with Area 10, and was distracted by not having his library books switched out, as he requested. Godric did not ask for much for himself, but when he did, everyone expected it to be done. With summer approaching, sunset was too late in the day for a vampire to handle it, and Godric already said he did not want Klaus bothered with it.

Stan agreed, also in Spanish, that even a human should be able to handle library books. He did not comment on Godric's shifter friend, Klaus. He didn't care much for shifters, but if they had to be around, one like Klaus was okay. He was loyal to Godric. Switching back to English, Stan asked, "Is there any chance of something better if Dusty can handle this?" He felt it was a bit insulting to go through all this trouble for something anyone can do. If Dusty did a good job, it would reflect well on Stan for finding him.

"I have not made a decision yet, Stan. It also depends on Godric."

"Do you want to use my office?"

"I have seen your office, Stan. Here is fine. Dusty, can you read?"

Just when Dusty was wondering how long Isabel's hair would be, if she let it down, she goes and insults him. "You asking me if I can read?"

"I did not want to assume you could. Acquaintances of Stan usually don't."

"I can read fine. English only."

"Do you have a telephone?"

"Yes."

"Will you accept calls prior to dawn?"

"Like the middle of the night?"

"Not usually. They would be made in the early morning."

"I guess. I'll hear it."

"Do you have a car?"

"Yes."

"Do you have a library card for the Dallas library?"

"No."

"Can you get one?"

"Yeah."

"Do you smoke?"

"Not really."

"Try to stop. For now, don't go near Godric when you smell. The job in mind does not involve you seeing him so you will have time to change your habits."

"I would work for someone I don't see?"

"It's not that you cannot see him, but your task would be carried out while Godric is not present."

Stan suggested, "It would be like you working here during the day. I hire people and hardly see them."

"Back to my questions," Isabel inserted, before Dusty could realize there might be a reason Stan worked nights. "Do you spit?"

"Spit?"

"Yes, spitting at any time. I cannot tolerate it, and cannot believe that it is encouraged with chewing a wad of dried up leaves."

"Oh, no, I don't do that."

"Are you in the habit of using profanity?"

"Depends on the situation and the company."

"Can you not take the Lord's name in vain in front of Godric? He hears it from across the room, so don't even whisper it."

There was silence, and then Dusty realized that was a real question. "Yeah, I can watch my mouth, unless there's some kind of accident where I hurt myself of something."

"What is your telephone number?" 

Dusty hesitated, thinking she needed a pen and paper, but she added, "Don't you know it?"

He gave it to her.

"Very well. Tomorrow, you will get a library card during the day. I will call you in the evening."

"Does that mean I have the job?" 

"Almost. We will talk again tomorrow, Dusty. Good evening." Turning to Stan, Isabel said, "I have nothing for you, Stan."

"Hallelujah," Stan sarcastically cried while waving his hands in the air.

Dusty asked her, "Get a library card?"

"Yes, the prospective job involves you going to the library and bringing back whatever Godric desires."

"He'll give me titles?"

"Rarely. You will have to guess based on his preferences. At first, get a lot of books."

"On a library card in my name?"

"You will also be returning them. He reads quickly so you might have them back in a day or two, if he he has the time."

"Doesn't sound like much of a job."

"If you are allowed to do it, do not do it poorly."

Isabel left, and Dusty asked Sam, "Is she for real?"

"Yeah, Godric reads like crazy, when everyone leaves him alone. It's good up front if you consider him sort of off limits. Don't bother him. Get the card, take the calls, and do your best." Stan's look hardened, as he said, "I mean that, I expect you to do your best, if you get the job, Dusty. You'll be fair game if Godric cuts you loose."

"Fair game for what?"

With a shrug, the owner of the liquor store said with a smile, "Who knows?"

The next evening, Isabel did call. It was early, Dusty hadn't even gone to the liquor store yet. Though he was thinking Stan acted a bit odd with that threat last night.

"Hello Dusty. Did you get a library card?"

"Yes."

"Could you please visit the Tiny Bubbles laundromat in the next hour? I will be there."

"What?" 

Isabel gave him the address. Dusty already knew where it was since he drove all over Dallas for work, but asked in a different way, "Why do you want me to go to a coin laundry?" 

"To see what you need to do to do the job, Dusty."

"At a laundry?"

"You will see when you get here. Go to the counter, and someone will let you in the back."

Stan said things would be weird. Weird in a laundromat was not what Dusty was hoping for. He didn't even like that stupid song.

Tiny Bubbles was a really big laundromat. Dusty didn't come here because there was others closer to where he lived. If it wasn't too freaky here, he might make a special trip. It was well-lit, clean and had wide aisles, besides the carts neatly lined up, and plenty of tables for folding. Not too many customers in here, and no screaming brats.

There was a television on one side. On the other side, up front, was a couple tables and chairs, with a big sign 'If you must eat, eat here.' There was even a few shelves over there with paper plates and napkins, plastic cups and utensils, along with a couple vending machines. There was also a pay phone by the restrooms. This actually was a pretty nice place, and it didn't charge more than the one Dusty used now.

In addition to the normal signs he would expect, Dusty saw others repeated among them – 'No Smoking', 'No Spitting', and 'No Profanity'.

A skinny, bearded guy wearing glasses at the counter looked like a college student. He had a toothpick sticking out of the side of his mouth, and had a fat book on the counter in front of him. Behind it, Dusty saw there was a big, cream-colored dog lying down.

He looked up at Dusty and asked, "Need change?"

"Um, I was asked to come here … by Isabel?"

The fellow got up and undid a latch on the hinged part of the counter, and said, "Go on back," pointing at the door behind him that was labeled 'Employees Only', next to the shelves of small packages of detergent, softener, different bleaches, and whatever else was needed to do laundry. Dusty just stuck with detergent, himself.

The large dog got up and his nails clicked on the clean, shiny linoleum as he followed Dusty to the door.

"Can she …?"

"He," corrected him. "He's allowed back there."

The dog might be old, and obviously had gotten into an accident or a terrible fight. There was baldness on his snout and one front shoulder where there were scars. He didn't look like a regular breed. A big mutt that looked like a whitish German Shepherd with pale, blue eyes.

Isabel was on one of the pay phones in the back room. She was wearing a nice dress tonight. Even nicer with her wearing it. Dusty wondered why a smart, beautiful woman like her was working for someone as young as Godric. Maybe he had oil money, or was related to Howard Hughes, or something. Stan did say weird.

There were four pay phones, and one had a sign over it 'Incoming Only'. It looked like a large lounge back here. There was a sofa, a line of chairs against the wall, the phones, a closet, a round table with a deck of cards and chip caddy, and a deep, utility sink. There was another door on the far side of the room, and a hall that might lead to the back of the building.

There was another guy back here, sitting on the couch, reading a newspaper. He was not unusual looking, and wearing a plaid shirt. He barely glanced at Dusty, and went back to reading.

The dog walked over to a water dish and lapped noisily. There was also a large dog bed over in the corner that way.

Isabel hung up the phone, and said, "Dusty, good of you to come so promptly. It's normally not so empty back here since they play poker all night."

She looked at the dog who was now cleaning his parts, and said, "There's no need for that, Klaus." The dog glanced up at Isabel then went back to grooming himself.

Isabel continued to look at the dog for a moment, then said, "He's Godric's, and won't mind anyone else. Anyway, you have your library card?"

Dusty couldn't believe she wanted to see it, but took out his wallet and presented it.

She looked at it, then continued, "All the books he had were returned today. Tomorrow, get a dozen books that look interesting to you. He reads both fiction and non. Come here ..."

They were interrupted by a loud, metallic clang followed by a man talking excitedly in another language, coming from the hallway. It was a big guy, dressed in a typical Texas fashion with boots, blue jeans and a cowboy shirt and hat. He had blood on him. In his wake, Godric followed. He also had blood on his shirt, but appeared unhurt.

Isabel looked in their direction and asked, "I suppose things did not go well?"

"It depends on how you look at it, Isabel," Godric replied calmly as he went over to the closet, while unbuttoning his shirt.

"Lowdown cowards were waiting to ambush me," the other man said.

The dog had gotten up, and, to Dusty, looked genuinely happy to see his boy, Godric. He got on his back legs, tag wagging hard, leaning on his master, and appeared to be almost as tall as he was.

Why did Godric have a tattoo across his collarbone?

Godric asked, "Any of these yours?" indicating the closet, before leaning his head forward for a swipe of doggy tongue on his face.

"No, I don't have any clothes here right now. I gotta eat after that, and maybe I'll go home, unless you need me, sheriff?"

"No, Rex, you are free to go."

Klaus sat down, tail thumping, while Godric removed his shirt and threw it in the sink. Dusty saw the boy had tattoos on his arms too, before he turned and exposed his tattooed back to take a clean shirt out.

While buttoning it up, he looked over and said, "Hello, Dusty."

"Hello," Dusty replied, not sure of what else to say.

"I asked Dusty over to show him where you want things," Isabel explained.

Godric nodded and commented, "Of course, Isabel."

"This way, Dusty," she said, leading him to the other side of the room, past Godric to the other door.

Dusty noticed there was a cup full of quarters at each of the three phones, not marked 'incoming'.

"This is Godric's office," Isabel explained. "He'll leave books that he's done with in this bottom drawer, and you can put new books on the bottom drawer on the other side."

Dusty noticed that it was neat in here, with his main focus being on the art. There was a picture of Jesus, his hand upon his chest indicating his Sacred Heart. There was also a number of framed pictures of Mary, along with her holding the baby Jesus in one. Of course, there was also a large cross on centered on the wall, across from the desk. Godric was some sort of holy roller, but what about the bloody shirt and ambushing part? Stan never mentioned religion. Okay, so maybe some religion type books in the first batch.

"Dusty," Isabel prodded.

He looked at the deep, bottom drawers she had opened. Both were empty.

"Alright. So I go get some books tomorrow and come here and put them in that drawer?"

"Yes."

"How much does it pay?"

"Is twenty dollars per delivery enough?"

"Each time?" Dusty asked. He made $2.25 an hour now.

"Yes. I'll let them know to give it to you each time you come, but no more than once a day."

"What time should I come?" 

"Any time during the day. The laundromat is open all the time. Godric comes in in the evening, and that's when people are in and out of back here. It's busy then, so try to be out of the way before then."

Godric was on one of the pay phones, speaking who knew what, while petting his dog's head. He made a sour face as he hung up the phone.

"Well?" Isabel asked.

"He is spineless, as always."

"Fear of Lividia is more like it. You could take care of her."

"I could, but that is not the proper way," Godric said as he started feeding quarters into the phone to make another call.

Dusty suspected the language Godric switched to was Spanish.

Isabel waited till he was done with his call before asking, "I thought you did not want Magnus involved with your business, Godric."

"Area 10 is not mine. Besides, I could hear the Magister salivating over the phone. He loves a snitch."

"What about the King? Weren't you in Area 10 tonight?"

Godric shrugged, "So? What can he do to me?"

Dusty had no idea what they were talking about. King could mean lots of things, but he doubted they were talking about Elvis, The King.

The dog gave a joyful bark, and butted his head against Godric's hand.

"Klaus, you are so naughty."

Isabel shook her head, hoping Godric would take things a bit more seriously, since their King did not lift a finger, "Her and her group are about to expose us."

"They do a decent job with the bodies, but that is still a lot of humans that have gone missing. Their greed and arrogance is overwhelming."

Dusty interrupted, "So you've told on them?"

"In a way," Godric replied vaguely. The Magister did not care about humans. Godric lured Lividia into committing a serious offense that carried a stiff punishment among their kind. With the weak sovereign of Texas, Area 10 would soon be his to take, and annex onto the territory he already held.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 4**

Dusty was not sure he still wanted the job after what he witnessed. Stan talked him into sticking to it.

"You don't have to worry about what's going on there. In fact, Godric's the last one to go looking for trouble."

"What do you mean trouble?"

"Not trouble, but sort of what you saw. He probably went along with Rex. When things get ugly, he'll step in and ask everybody to sit down and talk it over."

"I noticed he had a lot of Jesus and Mary pictures in his office."

"Yeah. It's never done me much good, but Godric's got a real interest in that sort of thing. Try not to bring it up with him though, or he'll start talking for hours about it. Even quotes it. Best you start out slow with him anyways. He's not quick to make new friends."

"Is he friends with you, Stan?"

"I'm not sure. Isabel can't stand me, and she's babbling in his ear all the time, but I go over often enough to play poker so I get my face seen."

"He plays poker?"

"Rarely. He usually stays in his room reading or whatever, but sometimes we're short a person or two, and we'll ask. Sometimes he'll play. It depends."

So Dusty decided to give it a try. He made two deliveries of books and was $40 richer. There were even half the books to return waiting for him when he came the second time so the library cops wouldn't be on his ass. The only other book he saw in Godric's office was a Bible. Actually, three Bibles, but it was all the same book after all.

Third day, third delivery. He had not seen or heard from Godric or Isabel. Both times, there had been no one in the back, and Klaus the dog was napping behind the counter on another dog bed, like he was now.

This lady had seen him before and opened the counter without Dusty saying anything. This time Klaus looked up, then turned to look over his shoulder and stood, growling low in his throat.

"What the fuck?" some young man yelled.

The female employee did not bother putting down her knitting as she said, "I believe it's called 'you're fired,' Jimmy."

"Oh yeah, what if I tell?"

"Tell what? You did a shitty job."

"That's not what I meant, I know what they are."

Dusty looked at the guy in confusion. What were they? A secret religious sect, funded by a deranged teen, hiding in the back of a laundromat?

"Just find another job."

"No, I want Godric to pay."

"You were paid. Now get lost, or I'll call the cops."

"No, I mean it'll cost a lot to keep me quiet. Godric's gonna go down."

The woman laughed loud and long.

"Hey, shut your trap, bitch," Jimmy said, getting close and taking out a switchblade.

Dusty had a person between him and Jimmy, besides the counter.

Klaus moved quickly and jumped right over the counter, sailing right into Jimmy's body.

"Whoa," Jimmy yelled, scrambling to get up and back away. "Damned dog."

"Don't," the woman yelled, but no one listened.

He ran, with Klaus on his heels. The dog was faster and Jimmy went down, disappearing behind a line of washers.

"Damn idiot," the woman said, getting up. Dusty followed her, but she went past Jimmy getting mauled to go up front and locked the door, flipping the sign to 'closed'.

Dusty tried to call the dog off, then foolishly wrapped his arms around its neck, trying to physically remove it. Klaus was one strong dog.

"Klaus, disappear," the woman called. "You are going to be in so much trouble. I gotta call someone to clean this up."

The dog moved off the still Jimmy, pulling Dusty with him. Christ. Worse was Klaus was looking over his shoulder at Dusty, showing off his bloody mouth, then gave a short bark.

"Right," Dusty said, letting go.

Klaus' paws clicked his way back to the counter, went through, and sat down next to the door to the back room.

The woman said, "You are one dumb dog, Klaus. You understand that? Get yourself cleaned up. I'll make the call 'cause no one understands a word out of your mouth."

Dusty looked around to make sure she was really talking to a dog, as she grabbed a couple quarters.

"Uh, what should …?"

"I guess you should keep doing what you're doing. You're only getting twenty bucks so it's better you don't get involved. Let him in the back with you."

"The dog? But isn't he …?"

"He can take care of himself. Don't worry, Klaus will have to answer to Godric later. Thank goodness no one was in here that I'd have to keep till later."

"Keep?"

"Never mind. I got to make a call, and get this taken care of."

Dusty did not like this at all, and did not want Klaus following him into the back. Vicious, unpredictable dog with creepy eyes. He didn't need to look at Jimmy closely to tell he was dead. His throat had been ripped out.

He opened the door and the dog went through leading the way. Dusty followed, and went into Godric's office and closed the door to keep Klaus out.

Eying the cross, a brief plea crossed Dusty's lips. He doubted the police were being called. Shit. He dropped the books in the drawer. Godric had left two books in it from yesterday. In the return drawer, were the rest. Yeah, like he should be worried about library books right now.

Dusty opened the door. There was a man, wearing only a pair of blue jeans, splashing water on his face at the sink. He didn't see the dog.

The tall, lean man turned and wiped the water off his face. He was one of those pale blond sorts that looks odd, due to their lack of real color. Especially those freaky pale, blue eyes that were looking at him now, over a scar that ran across his face, bridging his nose. He had a sunburst of scar tissue on one of his pale shoulders.

"Scheißkerl kann nicht arbeiten und klagt hier?" the scarred man asked, then answered himself with a dismissive huff and wave.

"What?" 

"Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"

"No."

"Ah, mein Englisch ist nicht so gut. Ich verstehe … understand more as ein Hund."

Taking a wild guess, Dusty asked, "Klaus?"

"Ja," he replied with a nod. "Wenn Godric kommt … ah no. He will angry with me. Sie … you explain to him?"

"What is there to explain?" Dusty asked cautiously. He did not want to be the next person dead of a vicious dog attack, or whatever else this individual was capable of.

"Jimmy … meant … meant, mean, right word?" Klaus turned and looked at the clothes in the closet and pulled out a shirt. "Ich hasse Kleider."

"You killed him."

"Ja, Godric will be upset. Er ist sehr friedlich."

"What's that? You said it in all German."

"Very … peace, nice? Not like the rest. Tells them to stop or else."

Klaus pulled out a pair of boots and sat down to pull them on.

"Was ist für lunch? Ich bin hungrig," Klaus said, reaching into the bowl of dog biscuits and noisily bit into one. He picked up the bowl and held it out to Dusty.

"No, thanks."

"I am not fed till evening. Ich bin hungrig jetzt."

"What?"

"Now. I want to … eat. Habit to eat when I become human."

Rather than questioning the 'become human', Dusty asked, "Does Godric feed you?"

"Godric does not like the smell of food. Someone brings me food for breakfast and dinner every day, und I eat out at the table."

"Hey, you said that all in English," Dusty commented. Klaus' accent was still heavy.

"I need time to think my words English. I think in Deutsch."

"You're from Germany?"

"Ja."

"Are you like some sort of war criminal?"

"Nein, ich only Jungvolk before the end. I was too small to fire artillery like the older boys."

Klaus stalked over to the door, and opened it to the laundromat. He wasn't even through it, when he complained loudly, "Ich bin hungrig."

"Hold your horses," was yelled back at him.

He went over to see what was going on. Klaus had sat on the attendant's chair, and placed his folded arms on the counter to rest his head on them.

The female laundry attendant said, "Stop drooling on my counter. You're a bad dog. You understand that in English? You, here's your twenty dollars for today. Here's another twenty. Take him to eat. Go out the back door, and come back through the front when we reopen."

"What?" Dusty asked.

"Get him out of here."

Klaus had already stood up, looking at Dusty expectantly.

"Is that safe?"

"I think you could figure out what sets him off." She sighed, "Don't make threats to him or Godric. He might protect Isabel too."

"Not Isabel, unless Godric says," Klaus corrected, waiting at the door like he couldn't open it for himself.

"What a gentleman. Just take him."

"Never a gentleman."

Dusty opened the door, and Klaus followed him to the back.

"How about I get you some hamburgers and bring them back here?"

"Nein, no eating back here."

"You mean the rule about eating out front?"

"Ja, Godric's rule."

"So you eat hamburgers?"

"Meat, yes. Und beer. I like beer."

"Do you have a restaurant around here you like?"

"I do not leave the building unless ich bin mit Godric."

"I'm not Godric," Dusty pointed out.

"Definitely not." Klaus pushed open the metal fire door.

"Are you allowed out?"

"Allowed … allowed? Ah, yes, I can go outside. I am not a prisoner here."

"Okay, let's go then."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 5**

Dusty decided against hamburger when he saw a steak house further along the street. Klaus was sort of talkative, maybe if they sat down, he'd say something interesting about young and very odd Godric, or the beautiful Isabel.

Looking at the menu, Dusty asked, "Can you read this?"

Klaus responded with uncharacteristic plain English, "Yes."

"Have you been in the United States long?"

"I come mit Godric. I want him leaving me not."

"You knew Godric in Germany?"

"Selbstverständlich."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh … uh, natürlich, naturally? I like home better than here, aber … uh, Godric … I am not knowing why, but he come to United States. Airplane from Paris to New York fast enough now, und I travel as I am … human, und stay between him und Volk."

"Are you human?"

"I born human, und I have gift to become animals."

They placed their orders.

"So you don't have to be a dog?" Dusty asked, now that he had time to think about it.

"No, I do not have to but sometimes I feel strong about being an animal. I used to be bear when young, aber uh … with Godric a bear not right. Less fight," Klaus indicated his face, "or shooting." He patted his scarred shoulder. "I do not um … want to get hurt bad even now when I mit … with Godric. One time Godric save my life enough."

"He saved your life?"

"Ja, even after getting shot und all, I still very stupid."

Klaus stopped speaking to grab his beer that was just put on the table. He drained the unappealingly dark, to Dusty at least, liquid, in one long swallow.

He stared into the empty glass mug and muttered, "I miss the drinking and the singing."

"I'm sure there's someplace around here that might uh … have … what is it? Oktoberfest or whatever you do."

"It would be lonely. Godric sings little, does not drink beer und does not like the smell of it."

"How about Isabel?"

"Isabel?" Klaus laughed.

"She's married?"

Klaus continued laughing, then said, "No. No. She … I not what she wants. She knows I am Godric's. I would not change that."

"But you're not really a dog."

The man across the table from Dusty looked puzzled, before he tried to explain, "You are new. You work for Godric, but not as much as me. I am … official. I am Godric's. But um … you will hear others claim they belong to one of the others, but I am different. I am Godric's companion, but not that way."

"What way?"

"We are … platonisch? Uh, no sex. Und no blood."

Dusty stared at Klaus. Who said anything about sex? Even if Klaus turned into a dog, what kind of mixed up shit went through his head? And if he was trying to say something about him and Godric, that was really fucked up. Even in 1969. Klaus looked like he could be getting close to forty.

He remained silent till Klaus drained his second beer.

"What does Godric do, besides the laundromat?"

Klaus brightened, but smirked as he said, "You should not worry about that. He is one that does not want anyone hurt. Wants quiet to read and pray."

"Do you know Stan?"

"Yes, he plays cards."

They became silent, and it was Klaus he restarted the conversation, after their food was served. "You ask about Isabel. Are you married?"

"No."

"Good. No good to have wife and young children with us."

"Why?"

"Accidents, when they start fighting. Texas ist not strong. All trying to change things, und Godric ist … like rock? But cannot protect all around him."

"Isabel is in danger?"

"She ist strong and smart. Also knows to stay close to Godric."

"What about you?"

"I am nothing to them."

"Doesn't Godric like you?"

"Oh ja, but that is Godric. He does not think we," Klaus made a gesture between the them, to indicate both of them, "are nothing. He likes the job you are doing. Much better than before."

"Uh, thanks, but he hasn't told me anything. I could do a better job if I got some kind of hint."

"I can tell him. Not tonight. I … um, trouble? Ja, trouble."

"How much? And how often do you go leaping around, ripping out throats?"

"Godric know I am dumb. I never get better."

"So what will happen?"

"He will think of something. Last time, I had to remain human for days and days."

"What's bad about that?"

"I do not like it." Klaus smiled and said, "Glücklicherweise … oh, um luckily? Godric prefers me not human."

"Why?"

"He likes the quiet in his head when I am not feeling things human."

"What's that mean?"

"When Godric saved me years ago, wir binden. He uh, feels me und wanted to leave me in Germany to put me far away."

"You're in Texas."

"Oh ja … yes, it ist boring after meeting them to go back to live without."

"Klaus, I get library books for him. That's boring."

"That ist Godric." Klaus chuckled, "It is not as dull as a sheep farm. I cannot think as much as a dog that I found that fun. Very good food though. Humans very nice there – food, drink und singing."

"A sheep farm?"

"Ja, when we went to visit Godric's best friend. He has very beautiful view of the sea, but it was a drawn-out two months of long night. It was so far north Years ago, before we come United States. We go to France after, and fly to New York City. So loud und smelly after farm."

"Then you flew to Dallas?"

"Nein, we go to New Orleans. Nice for Godric but he worry about all the water. He like swimming, but that not swimming water."

"Water?"

"If someone dig, the water come up in hole … you know?"

"So?"

Klaus sighed, and drained another glass of beer.

Was he supposed to cut Klaus off at a certain point?

"Do you know how long it would take to reopen the laundromat?"

He shrugged in response, and held up his empty glass to signal for another beer.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 6**

With all Klaus' beer, their bill came to over $22. Christ. At least he walked okay for a drunk, dog man.

The laundromat was open, and it was not until there, that Dusty saw Klaus waver as he almost walked into the ladies' room. A shrieking customer who was folding nearby got him to take a closer look at the door.

Not sure if someone needed to watch the German, Dusty followed him, besides needing to take a leak himself. At least he washed his hands, before slowly walking to the counter, and getting let into the back.

He dragged a chair over to in front of Godric's office door and sat.

Dusty noticed there were a bunch of newspapers on the table, and took the top one.

"Nein, those are Godric's."

"I'm not takin' it anywhere, Klaus."

"Put it back," Klaus said, standing.

"Fine."

Klaus resumed his seat.

"What time does he come in?"

"Soon."

"Should I stay?"

"You can."

Dusty sat down. He was interested in seeing how Klaus got into trouble.

He looked towards the back hallway when he heard the fire door.

"Wie geht's?"

Dusty turned his head. Godric was in front of Klaus, rather than in the back hall.

Klaus fell off the chair and onto his knees, and pleaded, "Godric," while grabbing at the smaller man's waist.

"Beer?" Godric guessed as he leaned his head and torso back, then looked at Dusty and said, "Das ist okay. Let go."

"Nein. Nein. Nicht bier, Godric."

"Was ist los?"

Klaus' German came out disjointed, some fast, and then haltingly, then another fast phrase. Godric pushed Klaus off him and stepped back. He looked down at him, and Klaus quieted. Godric pointed at his office door.

Dusty got a pained look from Godric, then he asked, "Are you unhurt?"

"Yeah."

"Stay, and I will talk to you."

He sat after Godric went into his office and shut the door. Dusty picked up the top newspaper, a local one from Dallas and started reading.

One of the telephones rang. No one was here, but Dusty, so he got up and answered the 'incoming' line.

"Hello?"

He had no idea what the reply was, although it did include Godric, so slowly said, "Pardon me?"

"Det är Eric."

"Your name is Eric?" 

"Ja."

After an afternoon of Klaus, Dusty understood that one.

"What do you want, Eric?"

"Huh?" The male voice became accented English, "I calling not speak to you, calf brain. Give me Godric."

"He is busy in his office. May I take a message?"

"Who is this?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I not mistake and rip off someone else's arm to beat him to death with."

"Hold on."

Dusty put the phone down, and knocked on Godric's door.

Godric opened it, and looked at him expectantly.

"There's an Eric on the telephone that does not want to leave a message."

"I would like to speak to him."

Godric picked up the phone and smiled broadly as he said some nonsense.

Looking in the office, Klaus was kneeling on the floor, but whispered, "Erick?"

Dusty nodded. Was Godric forcing Klaus to pray?

Klaus smiled.

"What?" Dusty asked.

"Godric cannot be angry after talking to Erick."

Looking over, Dusty concluded that Klaus may be right. Godric looked like he was talking to a high school sweetheart, instead of some man that threw out an insult like 'calf brain'.

"Who is Eric?"

"The sheep farmer."

He took the threat of a sheep farmer seriously? There had been something in Eric's voice that made Dusty believe he was capable of violence. Maybe he was losing his touch delivering library books.

While Godric was giving a long laugh, Dusty asked, "Were you praying?"

Klaus' face brightened, and he replied, "Gut idea. Godric would like that, but I think it ist late for me to act … what's the word for truly sorry but religious?"

"I get what you mean."

"Get up, Klaus." Godric said.

"Ja?"

"Do you feel like a hand of Kaiserspiel?"

"Oh ja. Do we have a fourth?"

"No."

"Too bad," Klaus said sincerely. "Sorry, Dusty. It's played in pairs. We fake it with only two."

"That's okay. I don't know that one."

Klaus went to the closet and took a box off the shelf. He took out some funny looking playing cards, a small chalkboard and a piece of chalk.

Before picking up the papers, Godric asked, "Who touched my newspapers?"

"Uh, me," Dusty volunteered.

"Please wait until I've read them first."

Klaus had everything set up by the time Godric came back from putting his newspapers in his office.

Dusty had no idea what they were doing. It wasn't any game he knew, and what they were saying in German appeared to be related to the cards, rather than conversation. His eyes left the game when Isabel came in.

"Good evening, Dusty." She pointed to Klaus and said, "After you're done playing, your dinner's waiting for you."

"Danke."

Dusty said, "Hi," to her. She may be older than him, but Isabel was a fine-looking woman.

"Isabel?" Godric asked.

"Yes?"

"Eric called. I do not understand what he was saying. He can send me what I asked for, but there is something about it needing to be inspected before I can have it."

"What do you need from Eric?" 

"I want a new skin for my bed."

"You can get sheepskins here, Godric."

"Not Gotlandsfår. I want Gotlandsfår, and I needed to wait until Eric took care of culling his older animals because for some reason they're counting his sheep."

Klaus explained, "Because they are so stupid to breed them into something else, und only Erick left with real Gotlandsfår, besides the ones in wild."

"Since when do you know something about sheep?" Isabel asked.

"When we visit, I hear things. Erick likes the alt sheep because they stay outside all time like real sheep. Ørland ist windy. When the wind come the wrong way, er needs strong sheep."

Isabel said something in Spanish that included Eric's name multiple times.

Godric shook his head, and said something back that included Klaus and Eric.

Klaus looked at Dusty and shrugged.

Still disagreeing Isabel started in Spanish, but switched suddenly to English, "Why don't you have it sent to Dusty?"

"No, I'd rather Eric brought it himself, or Klaus go get it."

"Nein," Klaus interrupted.

"Godric, simply because you and Klaus travel about with hardly anything, like you are visiting hostels, and got away with bringing odd items into the United States with you, does not mean it can easily be repeated. Do it the right way. And don't think I don't see through that as a thin excuse to get Eric over here."

"He'd come if I told him."

"Only lure him here if you plan on taking Texas, Godric. The two of you in one area is an invitation for trouble."

"I don't want Texas."

"No one will believe that. You two cannot be in the same kingdom over here, unless it is yours."

"Why are you so negative, Isabel?"

"Because you are not thinking like one of us."

"That is a good thing."

"No, it's not. Now what about your package? Send it to Dusty, and he'll bring it to you when it clears Customs?"

"I don't want to risk not getting it. Why not send it in to get held with your things?"

"My customs agent charges a fortune. You are not getting anything valuable, except to you. It'd be cheaper to bring a live animal over."

Not understanding, Godric said, "What is the point of that, if I only want the skin?"

Equally dense, Klaus said, "There is not good mutton here so I'll help you not waste."

The back door clanged, but only Dusty turned to see who it was.

"I have never seen two more matched than the pair of you," Isabel declared.

The dog and boy smiled at each other, and Klaus threw a playing card on the table. Godric scooped it up.

"Ooh, as dumb as a shifter," Rex said, flopping onto the sofa.

Godric looked unconvinced, and Isabel pressed, "Do you ever think Eric and you might join the rest of us in the twentieth century? Then you wouldn't be bothered with getting something from an almost extinct sheep."

"Never," Godric said with a smile.

"Dusty," Isabel said, turning to him, "can you handle getting a package from Norway? It'll be held in customs, and we'll pay all the fees."

"Das ist drei," Klaus said, and put his cards down.

"I guess," Dusty replied. If it was inspected before he got it, it wouldn't be his fault if Eric shipped strange things.

"Kaiserspiel?" Godric offered.

"Are you two going to play as a pair, or give us a chance?" Rex asked.

Klaus replied, "I only play mit Godric."

Rex and Isabel declined, and Rex suggested, "We should teach them Spades, and send them to a tournament somewhere so they can beat someone else for a change."

"That would not be fair," Godric said.

"What about bridge?" Dusty asked. He knew Spades was a trick-taking game, but Bridge was more popular.

"Got to keep it simple with these two. At least if they can remember the name of what they're playing, they won't keep asking what the trump suit is," Rex complained.

Godric handed his cards to Klaus, and the German straightened up after them.

"Do you need my address?" Dusty asked.

Isabel replied, "I saw it on your library card."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 7**

Dusty skipped going to the liquor store that night, and Stan smiled when he came in the following evening.

"Thought something happened to ya."

"Like what?"

"How should I know?" was Stan's reply. Godric said Dusty was doing a good job. Stan didn't want anything happening to the human, now that he finally got some notice, besides being the subject of Isabel's bellyaching.

"Hey, do you know Godric's dog?"

"Yeah, it smells pretty bad, even for a dog."

Dusty looked at Stan trying to guess if he knew that Klaus was not really a dog. "Maybe with that big sink in the back, Godric could give him a bath."

"Yes," Stan agreed with a laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing," Stan said, still shaking a little.

"You know? I met Klaus. He's German."

"You understood him? Is his Swabian thick or what?"

"He spoke German, but I don't speak that."

"Not real German. That's what I speak. He's from the Black Forest … oh, what's it called down there now? Baden-Württemberg? They speak a whole other language down there."

"You're German?"

"No, I'm … yes, I am." Stan distinguished himself as Prussian, but that nationality was now antiquated. The Kingdom of Prussia had been the leading state of the German Empire so he guessed he could be called German. It was insulting to be considered the same nationality as something like Klaus.

"I mean, I know you're American, Stan. Just asking where your family originally came from. None of us are from here, but the Indians."

"That's right," Stan agreed with a nod.

"Is Klaus normally dangerous?"

"No, though don't mention that bath around him, unless you're standing behind one of us," Stan joked.

"Us?"

"Not you, but us. Godric, or me, any of us."

"Isabel?"

"Yeah, Isabel too." He became serious and asked, "You do know that if you're there late, with us around, and something happens, get behind us? I'm not there much, since I only go to play poker a couple nights a week after work, but Godric, Rex or even Isabel ..."

"What are you talking about?"

Stan shrugged, "Just saying, if shit goes down … if it's at night, and we're there, get out of the way. Any other time, run."

"What about Klaus?"

"Klaus? If you see him running, that's definitely your cue to get out."

"Should I stay if he does?"

"Hell, no. He's fucking stupid."

Dusty couldn't argue with that. What kind of moron, even if he could turn into an animal, would follow a teenager halfway around the world to places like a sheep farm and a laundromat?

It went back to library books while Dusty waited for the mystery package from Norway to arrive and clear Customs. Klaus was still at the laundromat every day, lying around as a dog behind the counter, but now his tail thumped in a wag when Dusty came through.

He did get a phone call from Godric at about five one morning, and he grunted as he scribbled down some book titles and authors. He was not in the mood for a conversation after an evening with his pal, Captain Morgan. Dusty was angry at himself when he got to the library with the list, since he could barely make out what he wrote, couldn't remember much more than there was a phone call, and wasted time trying to figure out what Godric wanted.

Dusty put himself on the waiting list for _The Population Bomb _and _Myra Breckinridge. _He guessed Godric wanted a book about DNA called _The Double Helix _by James D. Watson. That was pretty new. His handwriting made it look like Double Hell. He didn't need to guess on _A Small Town in Germany _by John le Carré. He could make that out. Godric Machine was actually _The God Machine _by Martin Caidin, and he found a book called _Black Easter _that might be what he was supposed to get.

He went and switched out the books, and left a note he had written that they needed to wait till the two books on reserve were back at the library.

There was no phone call that night or the next morning so Dusty picked out more books and brought them. When he got to the laundromat, he received his money, and got an idea as he went to the back and said, "Come on, Klaus."

The dog got up and followed him into the back room. After he closed the door and looked around, Dusty asked, "Are you allowed to talk?"

Klaus' paws clicked their way behind the table, and then Klaus the man stood there.

"Ja, Dusty."

"Uh ..." He hadn't realized that a naked dog became a naked man.

"Was ist los?"

"English please."

"What is off?"

Dusty looked confused. What was off was Klaus' clothes.

"Sie sprechen … you speak mit me? Ich verstehe nicht."

"Sorry, Klaus. I forgot it takes time for you to switch to English."

"Ah. Okay. You speak, und I hear. Ich spreche … soon."

"I wanted to know if I brought the right books yesterday. Godric had called me and I was sleeping so I may have not been paying attention."

"Ich weiß nicht. Godric … read."

"Let me check. I got new books here."

"Okay."

All four books were in the return drawer, and on top of it was Dusty's note with a line drawn through it. What did that mean? He brought it out to Klaus.

Klaus was wearing a pair of blue jeans again, and was pulling out of the closet the same shirt Dusty saw him wear before, along with the same boots.

"You're getting dressed."

"Gehen wir für Bier?"

"Beer?"

"Ja, Bier. Godric okay."

"Hey, um, do you know what this means? I left Godric a note that I had to wait for two books."

"Godric read." Klaus' finger followed the diagonal line and he explained, "Godric … read? Sie verstehen he read? Er markiert."

"What?"

"Godric schreibt nicht. Er markiert … mark, right?"

"Godric made a mark across my note to let me know he read it?"

"Ja, he make mark. You see und know Godric read."

"Okay. So you want to go for beer?"

"Und food. Godric okay mit uh … you. I can go with you."

"Okay."

Klaus went through the door and said, "Ich brauche Geld."

"What?" the woman who continued knitting asked.

"Bitte."

"I know that's please. What do you need?"

"Geld." Klaus reached under the counter and shook a cup of coins, and repeated, "Geld."

"What do you need money for?"

"Bier mit Dusty."

That stopped the knitting, and she turned to look at Dusty. She said, "Okie dokie then," and reached into a metal box for another $20. Slowly, she said, "I am going to give it to Dusty to hold, okay?"

"Ja," Klaus quickly agreed.

On their walk down the street, Dusty asked, "Is it all right that you ask for money?"

"Ja, Godric say I can have Geld. I don't before because I don't drink alone."

"Can't Godric have a soda, or one of the older fellows go with you?"

"No, I alone when eating und drinking. Godric say I can go with you."

"What did I do to deserve that kind of trust?"

"Trust?"

"Aren't you valuable to Godric?"

"I dumb, but not ... helpless."

"I didn't mean to suggest that."

"I am not understanding."

"You're special, right?"

"I only change to animal."

"Godric can't do that."

"Why would Godric need? He stronger. Faster. Not hurt."

Once they sat down, Dusty asked, "What do you mean that Godric's all that? Faster and stuff?"

Klaus looked at him dully.

"You do remember you said that? When we were walking here?"

"Ja."

"What did you mean?"

"When you see … you know."

They ordered their steaks and beer, and it wasn't till his dark beer came that Klaus suddenly said, "Isabel is Catholic. Are you?"

"No. You?"

"Uh, nein … I listen, but it too much. It not what I learn when I young."

"And Godric?"

"Godric likes it, but he not baptized. He agrees with Isabel on Vatican Two, and she has not gone to church since it is not in Latin any more."

"Who knows Latin anymore?"

"Isabel knows it, and Godric like Roman with it."

"I'm not surprised. Is he a student?"

"No, Godric … no, he cannot go to school."

Dusty admitted, "School's not for everyone."

"I leave early."

"Actually, if Godric does not go to school … how old is he? Is he registered for the draft? They're going to be pulling birthdays on December 1st, I heard."

With all that English, Klaus looked confused.

"All right. I was a Marine over in Vietnam. You understand that?"

"I not go there."

"Yeah, I know. You're not American."

"Godric not American."

"He's not? He doesn't sound like he's from around here, but not that he speaks a language other than English. I know he does though."

"Ja, Godric can speak to lots. His German not like mine, but I know what he says."

Trying the word out that Stan used, Dusty said, "Swabian?"

Klaus smiled and said, "Oh ja. Others say it not German because they too lazy to listen."

His late lunch with Klaus did not result in any more information. He already knew Klaus liked beer.

After delivering the copy of _The Population _Bomb, Dusty called again about the package, and was told he could pick up Godric's, or his, package from Norway. It was a wooden crate, and was slightly too big for his trunk, so he put it in the back seat. Since he had to go to the library anyway, he brought the paperwork in to find out where this Trondheim was. It wasn't even near Denmark, but halfway up the west coast, in a sort of bay. Since there was no 'Eric' on the paperwork, it might not even be close to where the farm was.

Since he had the long awaited package, he decided to wait till after dark to go to Tiny Bubbles. Who wouldn't want to see this sheepskin? Dusty imagined the golden fleece from Jason and the Argonauts.

The guy with glasses and the thick textbook was back at work. He frowned at Dusty but did not say anything, and even got up to open the counter and door for him, since his hands were full.

Isabel was sitting and looking at a newspaper, she gave him a beautiful, silent nod. Godric was on the 'incoming' phone, and there was someone Dusty had not met yet, reading another newspaper.

Godric laughed, and said, "Lamar, how do you expect me to know who these people are? … No, I really don't. … Cow Palace? You live in something … oh, sorry, I didn't understand. … No, thank you, but I do appreciate you calling to invite me. I simply do not know what you are talking about. … No, I cannot imagine myself going to these places with you. You are too wild for me, Lamar. … No, no, no, it's your behavior. I am not comfortable with how outgoing you are. You know that. … Yes, you're right, it's because I can't hide behind Eric. You are not that big. … Well, yes, we have both hidden behind him, but normally you prefer to steal the attention, don't you? … Uh, no, I cannot think of anyone more flamboyant than you. You jumped on that stage in Paris. I was so embarrassed. … No, I do not need to see more of that. … Of course, I remember, but I am not going to wax poetic about you ripping your clothes off like that. … Well, that was Sophie-Anne. How could you confuse the two of us? … No, I do not take her suggestions seriously. She tells everyone to have sex so she can watch. … No, I do not. Why are you saying that to me? … Yes, apology accepted, Lamar. … Yes. Good bye."

"What is he up to now?" Isabel asked.

"Trying to lure me to San Francisco to listen to music. Why would he think I know any of this? He said I'd like some human named Janis Joplin. He's fond of her, but says she is erratic when she's on speed and heroine."

"What makes him think you'd like that? Lamar wants to make it sound more exciting than Dallas. He'd probably reduce your tithe to nothing, if you switched fealty to him. He's pulling it in from all over there."

"What do I care about my tithe? I know Lamar, and he makes enemies, besides being a target with one of the richest kingdoms. I would never get any peace."

Godric looked at the wooden crate, which now had Klaus sitting next to it, wagging his tail, and asked, "Is that my package, Dusty?"

"Yes, it is."

"Thank you." He looked at it, then used a couple fingers to pry a nail out, then another. Dusty could not believe it. Customs had nailed it back shut with big, ugly nails, but he thought it was on there tight.

"Uh, wouldn't you like a hammer or crow bar?"

"No, I got it," Godric replied, pulling out another piece of metal.

Klaus got excited and stood to wiggle his behind along with his tail. He also butted his head against Godric's leg, until Godric murmured, "Du denkst, schickte er etwas für dich?"

The dog got up on his hind legs, and leaned his front paws on the crate.

"Ja. Vorsicht, deine Augen," Godric said, giving Klaus a push off and putting a hand on his face, while prying up the now nail free corner with his other bare hand.

What kind of crappy wood did they have in Norway? Dusty saw it bend and splinter, and Godric get a better hold on what was left once he made the first hole to pry the whole top off while the remaining nails squealed free.

Klaus' head went in, and Godric complained, "Halt."

Undeterred, the dog was audibly smelling the contents and interior of the crate.

Godric reached in past him, and lifted out something wrapped in brown paper and put it on the table. He got the rest of the packages out, and opened them while Klaus watched.

Like the others, Dusty was underwhelmed as he silently watched. Gotlandsfår were curly, grey furred sheep, except for the white, little one that Godric was willing to say was a lambskin to go with his three larger skins. He guessed he was talking to Klaus about that, since that was the only person openly happy for Godric's good fortune.

Isabel spoke when Godric opened another wrapped package, "Why is Eric sending you clothes? You have clothes here."

"I like these," Godric said, before adding, "This one's for you Klaus," while holding up a glacial blue cabled sweater.

"If Eric sent you a stick, you'd love it."

"That's not funny, Isabel. Klaus does not play dog games."

She huffed, knowing Godric was intentionally misunderstanding her.

The back door slammed, and Rex came in. He asked, "No poker?" 

"Not yet," replied the fellow on the couch.

"Oh, I'll get my things off the table," Godric said. He put everything back in the crate, and dragged it to the closet first.

He said something about hoses to Klaus, and held out two different pairs of jeans, folded over hangers. The dog jerked his head towards one, and Godric put the other pair back.

The two friends went into Godric's office, with the teen carrying the box.

Rex pulled out the cards and chips, and shuffled aimlessly. "Who's coming tonight?"

"Maybe Catherine. Stan's working."

"You play?" Rex asked, looking right at Dusty.

"Yeah, but uh ..."

"Yeah, we'll need more." His eyes roamed towards Godric's office.

The guy on the couch said, "Oh, no. Not those two. They don't share a whole brain between them."

"Paolo, you're speakin' 'bout the sheriff."

"I'm speaking about poker."

Isabel said, "It's only because he tricks you into letting him win."

Rex groaned, "No, it's real. Lot of book learning that he can spit out, so I know he's not dumb. Just … I don't know."

"Rex ..." Isabel warned.

"I think it's the shifter making him dumb," Paolo said. "They're bonded, and I don't think someone should do that with a shifter."

"No … but I don't Godric'll ever go back to doing it with a human. Klaus is as close to perfect as they come. He never complains. I'd love that. The last one I had thought she was my fucking wife with the questions and the nagging. Jesus Christ."

"Who's that?"

"No one now. I gave her bus fare to Los Angeles twelve years ago, and told her never to come back."

"I'm not going to sit around, listening to you whining about women. I got errands to run," Isabel said, standing.

"I was not whining. I happen to invest a bit more into my life than you, is all."

Godric's door opened, and Dusty's employer looked younger, wearing a black sweater with intricate dark blue and grey repeating geometric patterns.

"Black, Godric? It's not your color," Isabel complained.

"I like the blue one best, but Klaus is wearing blue."

"I'm going out."

"All right."

"We're short, sheriff. Join us?"

"Wouldn't you still be short, even with Klaus?"

"No, your uh … man said he plays."

"Oh, well yes, I'd love to play with Dusty too. Klaus, we're playing poker tonight."

"Sind wir?"

"Ja, mit Dusty."

"Sehr gut," Klaus replied, coming out, wearing his new pale blue sweater with his jeans. Godric had not brought his boots in, so he was barefoot.

Godric took a seat at the table, and Klaus set next to him.

Looking at a small book in the chip caddy, Rex gave Klaus a small pile of chips, Paolo a slightly bigger one, then took out some big stacks and slid them to Godric.

While Rex was counting out chips for himself, Godric pushed a stack of chips to Klaus, and another across the table to Dusty.

Paolo exclaimed, "Hey!"

"What? I thought that was allowed," Godric explained. "I give chips to Klaus all the time."

"It is," Rex said, "but you gave Dusty close to a thousand _credits_."

Godric shrugged and said, "It's only money."

"Never mind," Rex said to Godric, and then turned to Dusty. "That is worth a dollar per credit, and you can cash in any time you are leaving the table. I would have told you that when you bought in. We usually play so much, we keep a running balance. Uh, if we play too fast for you, tell us, and we'll slow down. We're not trying to cheat you. With Klaus at the table, we need to stay in low gear, if you know what I mean."

After running through the colors and denominations, Dusty realized that Godric had plenty of money to spare in front of him, even if Klaus played poker as well as a dog.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 8**

Dusty did not like the look the librarian gave him when he picked up the copy _Myra Breckinridge _for Godric. He was not much of a reader, but when Dusty flipped through the book in the car later, words certainly jumped out at him. This was not suitable reading material for anyone, much less someone as young as Godric.

What was a dirty book like this even doing at the library? More surprising, was Godric asking to look at it. Dusty had not suspected, but then again, it was always those holier than thou types that you had to watch out for.

Indecisive, Dusty decided he should talk to his young boss. Maybe he did not know what the book was about. If not, there had to be some sort of understanding between them that Dusty was not going to fetch him pornography, liquor, drugs, or anything else objectionable or illegal. He would have been willing to go as far as cigarettes, but if Isabel asked him to quit, Dusty certainly wasn't going to buy a pack from any of them.

Even though Klaus said Godric did not go to school, it seemed strange that he wasn't around the laundromat during school hours. Truancy?

Since he was not allowed to touch the newspapers, Dusty ended up reading about Myra. She was one sick, dirty-minded woman. So much so, even Dusty did not want to date her once because there was a big difference between Myra and a good time.

There was a sound in front of him, as the back fire door slammed shut. Godric had stopped opening his office door, and said, "Good evening, Dusty. Is something amiss?"

"How …?"

"I suppose I'm careless, since I don't expect anyone to be waiting for me. What can I do for you?"

"Um, it's this book. I don't know if you know what it's about."

Godric glanced at the cover of the book Dusty was holding and said, "Gore Vidal is a fine essayist. I'd like to read more by him."

"This is not literature, Godric. It's pornography."

"Really?" Godric asked in surprise. "How is that determined?"

"I've been reading it, while waiting for you."

"You found it offensive, and have decided it is not something I should read?"

"Not at your age."

"I don't believe we have discussed my actual age before now, Dusty."

"This kind of stuff is not even for adults. It's sick."

"Have you read any of Gore Vidal's essays? In Twelve Caesars, he said '..,_ to deny the dark nature of human personality is not only fatuous but dangerous.'."_

Dusty replied, "What do you know about dark nature?"

Godric's eyebrows rose as he said, "You flatter me. However, using that same essay, if we do as everyone else, '… _in our insistence on the surrender of private will ("inner-directedness") to a conception of the human race as some teeming bacteria in the stream of time, unaffected by individual deeds, we have been made vulnerable not only to boredom, to that sense of meaninglessness which more than anything else is characteristic of our age …' _Dusty, aren't you more than a bacterium?"

"I may not have all your book learning, Godric, but I know you are not going to win an argument with me about this book."

"Hmm, and how are you going to stop me from taking it? You've probably already noticed I'm fast. Are you saying it as someone stronger than me, or older and wiser?"

"Maybe all that. I don't want to tell you what's right, but I feel strongly about this."

"I appreciate you sharing that with me."

The calm look of his convinced Dusty that Godric was still thinking he was getting this book from him. Eventually he broke the silence, "So, we're agreed?"

"No. You are operating under a misconception regarding my appearance and how it relates to my nature. It seems silly to reveal it over a book."

"You're not convincing me."

"I don't want to harm you, or to have you become unnecessarily frightened."

"Does this have something to do with the 'weird' Stan tried to tell me?"

"Did Stan do anything 'weird'?"

"No, and he did not say anything specific. Though I have seen Klaus."

"I am not like him. I am older, stronger and faster than Klaus. By the way, Klaus is also older, stronger and faster than you."

"Prove it."

"Do you mean Klaus or I?"

"I'd rather not get into any contests with Klaus."

Godric walked over to Dusty's side of the table, and said, "Please choose something for this contest."

Dusty stood, looking down at Godric. "You're serious? You could get hurt."

"That is an unlikely outcome. Pick something that will not injure you … pretend my strength is in the range of Superman."

Laughing, Dusty gave Godric a shove. His shoulder did not even bend back. Godric lifted his arm and held it straight out. "Perhaps trying to make me lower my arm?"

He did not laugh anymore as he leaned on it with all his weight, then said, "It's some sort of trick."

"Not the kind you think," Godric replied, reaching for the book on the table.

"Hey," Dusty said, putting his arms around Godric's torso.

Rather than slowing Godric down, he murmured, "Be careful you don't hurt yourself," as he took the book and opened it.

Dusty thought of one of those cheesy karate movies, where there was some smug teacher that could not be touched or moved.

The boy wasn't reading. He was flipping the pages quickly till Dusty put his hand in the book.

"Don't do that."

"I guess you're strong enough to move me."

"Yes, I am, but why should I have to if I can ask you stop, Dusty?"

"Why are you so strong?"

"Does the answer 'my diet' sound flippant?"

"What? Klaus told me you don't eat with him, but all the spinach in the world can't make someone as immovable as a boulder."

Godric pulled the book away, closed it and put it down, while putting his other hand on Dusty's. "I wish my diet was so benign. When you do realize what is wrong with us, you do not have to fear for yourself from me."

"Klaus?" Dusty prompted.

"Keep drinking and eating with him, and I'm sure he'll forgive much. Though he may get upset if he sees you trying to grapple with me."

Dusty stepped back from Godric, and the teen chuckled, "You are more afraid of Klaus?"

"You got that right."

Isabel entered the back of the laundromat with Klaus, as a dog, following her.

"Good evening, Dusty. Everything all right?"

The dog gave him a brief sniff as he passed on his way to Godric, and Dusty replied with a smile at her, but while trying not to look idiotic, "Yes. Hello, Isabel."

Klaus got affectionate with Godric, standing on his back paws, tail wagging and licking the teen's face.

"Your dinner's getting cold," Isabel reminded him. Godric may not mind smelling like dog, but she did not like the scent.

Dusty exclaimed, "Hey!" when Klaus changed into a naked man. He guessed Godric was used to it, but Isabel was here.

That did not go well, since Klaus turned and asked, "Ja?"

"Never mind, get uh, dressed."

Isabel ignored Klaus, and asked, "So you are here to visit, Dusty?" 

"Well, I wanted to talk to Godric about something."

She looked at her young employer for an explanation, and Godric obliged, "Dusty got me a book I specifically requested, and was concerned about the content."

"You do not have to worry about Godric reading extreme religious views, Dusty."

Godric laughed, "No, there's sex in this book."

"You don't like sex?" Isabel asked Dusty.

"I … this book is extreme, and even if Godric has a lot of book learning, someone his age ..." he was interrupted by Klaus' bark-like laugh, "... reading this about this kind of perversion is wrong. It's pornographic."

"Since when do you read pornography?"

"It's not," Godric denied, sliding the book across the table to her. "It's tame by Roman standards."

Isabel paged through it quickly, saying, "I can only pray humans are not going back to that sort of behavior. Latin no longer used in church, and now popular reading containing sexual acts. With the affordability of mass printing, and books being so common, this was inevitable. Shameful. Soon there will be more than kissing on that television thing."

She stopped leafing through the book, and asked, "Did you want to try this?"

Godric took the book from her, and read the passage she indicated. He looked at her, and said, "Definitely not. Why would you even ask me that?"

"It sounded interesting."

He looked at it again, and explained, "Not for the male."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 9**

That book was in the return drawer the next day with an extra $100 on top. God damn, he was taking money for not sticking to his principles. Godric was more mysterious with that little demonstration of his, but Dusty saw no reason to give him whatever he wanted just because he could pay for it. Next time, he would leave whatever it was at the library and say 'no'.

Isabel called him about a week later, waking him at a little after four in the morning.

"Dusty, would you be able to pick up someone at the airport tomorrow afternoon?"

"Huh?"

"There is an individual arriving tomorrow afternoon at the airport from Corpus Christi. Would you be able to pick him up and take him to his hotel? I can pay you $100."

"Yeah, but that's a bit much for just picking up some guy."

"You could also drive him to the laundromat for 3am, wait, and then take him back to the hotel. Perhaps also find out when he's leaving and drive him back to the airport?"

"Wait, what?"

"Are you awake enough to take down the flight information?" 

"Yes, gotta pen and all here, go 'head."

So that's how Dusty ended up at the airport looking for some guy named Russ. He hadn't taken good notes, so was not sure if that was his first or last name.

Russ was one of those big, round types that pretended he was a cowboy with his boots and hat, and Texas style suit with bolo tie. He'd probably never been on a horse in his life. Dusty did not like him, and his sweaty. meaty handshake only confirmed his dislike.

In the car, Russ then asked weird questions about Godric.

"I was told Godric's one of the oldest. Does he seem old?"

"He acts older than he really is," Dusty replied.

"How can you tell when they're as old as that?"

"As old as what?"

"My sheriff wasn't sure of what kind of gift to send him. Godric usually returns money. What does he like?"

"He reads."

"Does he have a radio or television? I hear some of them don't bother with that, but mine does."

"I've never been to his house or apartment."

"Well, they got to be careful."

"Of what?"

"You know."

"What?"

"People finding out."

"About what?"

"Where they are during the day."

"What are you talking about?"

"We're not supposed to talk about it, but since we are in a car alone … you're a young, somewhat attractive fellow, did you ever have sex with one of them? Is it as good as they say?"

"A woman?"

"Well, one of the female ones, or one of the guys."

"What kind of question is that?"

"Just a question."

"I don't like your question."

"Okay, but have any of them gotten hungry around you and taken a bite?"

"What?"

"Of you, or someone else?" 

"What kind of shit goes on down in Corpus Christi? You cross the border too many times to see those exotic Mexican girly shows with the animals?"

"What the hell you talking about?"

"I don't know. You're the one who mentioned sex first, and I ain't met you till today, mister."

"I'm talking about _them_."

"Them what? I have half a mind to take you back to the airport, or let you out here to walk. Screw the money."

"What?"

"You heard me. You and your nasty talk." Besides Godric, Dusty was also thinking about Isabel. They may have goofed around and tested him with that smutty book, but this pervert was a whole other level of nasty shit. He was hoping Klaus flipped out again and bit this bastard hard. He'd even volunteer to mop up after this one.

When they got to the hotel, Dusty barely pulled into the curb, got out, opened the trunk and threw the guy's bag on the pavement. He didn't need some sweaty guy that was funny about teen boys in his life.

Dusty went to the laundromat to see if anyone was around, but it was just the lady at the counter and Klaus. She looked at him, with her hand hovering with the $20, and asked, "No books?"

"Not today."

She put the money away, and inquired, "Then why are you here?"

"Uh, Isabel asked me to pick up someone at the airport. I did, but I didn't like him. I thought I'd come by and say something."

"You picked him up today?" she prompted, trying to figure out if this was someone that moved around during the daytime.

"This afternoon."

"Don't worry about it."

"No, I'm worried about this one. He asked a lot of odd questions."

"Doesn't everyone?"

"No, he seemed like a creep. Unusually interested in Godric. Gleaming eyes, sweaty hands, and talking about biting and men having sex with other men."

Klaus stood, and shook himself.

"Godric can take care of himself … so lay back down."

Instead, Klaus paced, letting his claws clicking on the floor express his annoyance.

Dusty looked at the clock. He knew Godric showed up later than normal dinner time usually. Would Klaus tell him, or should he stay?

About six, the college student came in, and after he settled into the vacated chair, asked, "Are you waiting for them?"

"Yeah."

"'Bout two and a half more hours. Go eat."

"Is it the same time every day?"

"No."

"Are you being mysterious on purpose?"

"Yes," the guy replied with a smile. Klaus didn't help by offering an accompanying bark.

Dusty went home, and then swung by the liquor store. It was even too early for Stan.

When he got back to Tiny Bubbles, the fellow said, "Too early, Dusty." 

"Does everyone learn my name before I learn theirs?"

"Dusty's really your name?"

"No, it's not."

"I'm Lee."

Dusty was not about to admit his first name on his driver's license was Dedalus in exchange for a name like Lee.

Klaus stood up, and went to the employee door, wagging his tail.

"You going to let me back there?" Dusty asked.

"Yes, I can," Lee replied, reaching over to undo the latch. "Let Klaus in the back with you."

Dusty pushed the door open, and Klaus walked past him to sit next to the table. He didn't see anyone, and Godric's newspapers were still on the table.

When he heard the back door, Godric came in normally, rather than slipping past them mysteriously, wearing his usual pressed slacks and white dress shirt, carrying a cloth sack. Dusty swallowed, wondering what could be in it.

"Good evening," Godric said, putting the bag down near the employee door to the laundromat.

"Hi, uh … what'cha got there?"

Godric raised an eyebrow and replied, "My dirty laundry."

Klaus transformed and laughed.

"Throw yours in with mine, Klaus," Godric suggested. "You keep forgetting."

"Ja," Klaus agreed, and Dusty blushed as Klaus did what he was asked before putting on his cleaner clothes.

"I didn't get you any books today."

"One day is okay."

"I picked up that guy from Corpus Christi, and I wanted to talk to you about him."

"What do you need to say?"

"He was talking about strange things in the car. I think you should send him back, and not even meet with him."

"What sort of strange things?"

"He asked questions about you, and blood, and sex."

"Me?"

"Yes."

"Did he specifically say what was wrong with me?"

"You? I think there's something wrong with him."

Klaus laughed, and said, "Ja, it's him."

"At least have Klaus in the room with you when you talk to him. He was talking like a pervert."

"Pervert?" Godric repeated. He knew the meaning of the word, but not entirely sure that the other area's sheriff sent a human speaking about their condition.

"As in he'll try to touch you. Klaus'll stop that."

"Touch me? I am not understanding. You've touched me when trying to keep me from reading that book."

"Wenn und wie?" Klaus asked.

"Nein, Klaus," Godric said. He was toying with Dusty, but Klaus was slow to pick up on that sort of thing.

"Not like the way he meant. I think he has a thing for young men or boys."

"Really? That sounds peculiar. Are you sure it was not something else?"

"I don't know what he meant by biting."

"Do you want to know?"

"Do I?" Dusty returned.

"Was denkst du, Klaus?"

"Was?"

"Sollte ich erklären, was ich bin?"

"Ja, er weiß, was ich bin," Klaus shrugged. If Dusty could handle that he could change into animals, and he killed a human in front of him, why would Godric be much different? Godric was smarter, and hurt humans less often.

"Stan explained some of it?" Godric asked.

"He said there were weird things that most people ignore."

"Yes, I guess a better term would be there is a supernatural world coexisting with the one you know. As humankind advances, supernaturals either blend in better or die out. You already know Klaus is close to human, and he has the ability to change into different animals. I met him when he ran afoul of some werewolves. Those are real, and quite dangerous. I am a different kind of supernatural being that has a terrible reputation. It has been earned since members of my species have no self-control. I try to blend in, take an interest in human affairs, and encourage others of my kind to behave civilly and with restraint."

"Okay."

"Due to interactions with humans, some of you are aware of us, and think we are exciting and exotic and then engage in all sorts of behavior. Both of us have members of our societies that behave badly, or simply in a lewd manner. I can guess my brethren in Corpus Christi engage more openly in some activities than I would. Perhaps I am the shy one."

"So you're sort of like Klaus?"

"No, actually my kind in general look down upon shifters and weres. I don't like most weres due to their pack mentality. It makes them difficult to deal with as individuals."

"What are you than?"

"I am vampire."

"Oh, come on. You?"

"It was not my choice to be turned to vampire, Dusty."

Seeing the continued dubious look, Godric offered, " I can extend my fangs, if you realize I am not hungry at the moment."

Dusty leaned closer because he had never noticed anything odd about Godric's teeth. They were spaced, but not like he never saw a dentist. Godric actually leaned his head back, rather than letting someone too close, before Dusty heard the click and saw two long fangs, wicked as a rattler's.

"Shit!"

Godric made them disappear, and mentioned, "I warned you first."

"But … do you drink blood?"

"Human blood is my only form of sustenance. I do not hunger for it at my age, but I need it occasionally to retain an appearance close to human. About 50 ccs."

"How much is that?"

Godric looked at Klaus, who volunteered, "A double shot of schnapps."

"So what about the movies is true?"

"I am fast and strong."

"What about sunlight? I've never seen you during the day."

"Listing my weaknesses? Why would I do that?"

Isabel came in through the door from the laundromat and said, "I did not bring your dinner today. Rex should."

Godric added, "She's talking to Klaus."

Dusty stared at Isabel.

"Good evening, Dusty."

"Hi."

"The man from Corpus Christi talked too much to Dusty. I've told him we are vampire," Godric explained.

"Are you okay with that Dusty?"

"I … it takes some getting used to. Do you also drink human blood?"

"Yes, but I keep a steady boyfriend for that reason."

"He knows?"

"Yes, he knows."

"And Godric has a girlfriend?"

"No," Godric instantly denied. "I do not relate well with humans daily. I prove to be a disappointment."

"How can you do worse than the rest of us?"

"Godric reads," Klaus commented.

"I do not need them every night. I lose track of days, then they're angry."

"How do you … meet someone then?"

"Remember when I told you to leave Stan's store the first night?"

"Yeah."

"I can ask people to stand still, be quiet, and then forget me. No need to burden myself with a girlfriend for that."

Dusty couldn't help smiling, "You can tell a girl to be quiet, and it works?"


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 10**

When Dusty brought Russ in for his middle of the night meeting, the poker game was going on, and Stan was one of them playing. Was Stan a vampire too? He seemed so normal, for a person he only saw at night.

Even knowing what he did, he still thought Russ was a creep. Godric and Isabel didn't explain anything that this fellow said about sex, just the biting bit. Isabel was sexy. Any guy could see that, but she was never slutty or even flirtatious that Dusty had seen. She was quite professional.

Isabel requested, "Have a seat. The sheriff is out walking his dog and should be back shortly."

"Going to join us for a few hands, Dusty?" Rex asked.

"Thanks," Dusty replied, curious as to why Godric was walking Klaus. As far as he knew, no one walked Klaus. Klaus could take himself for a leak.

He had taken a seat, gotten a stack of chips and was already dealt in for the next hand when the fire door in the back clanged shut. His eyes swept the room due to Godric's normal way of entering, so fast he was rarely seen, but instead he was taking his time with a little, excited dog that was circling around him.

It looked like Toto, a dirty colored terrier. Dusty didn't think it was Klaus because he had no scars showing. What the hell was his boss wearing? Dungarees, rolled up at the hem, and a long-sleeved, blue plaid shirt with buttoned cuffs. Normally, Godric looked young to Dusty, trying to dress to look older. Now, he was dressed his apparent age, or even younger. There was something else. Godric looked healthy. His skin was not pale, and his eyes were not rimmed with red. There was even a little bit of pink on his still-pale cheeks, and his lips were not pale as in barely darker than his skin, but a normal shade of pinkish red.

The dog skittered to a stop, bared its teeth at Russ, and growled. When the little dog lunged, Godric caught him in midair, and held him squirming in his arms. "Shh, Fang."

Isabel performed the introduction, "Sheriff, this is Russ representing your fellow sheriff of Area 3."

Godric looked at Russ warily, then glanced down at his hostile dog. He gave Russ a brief nod.

Russ cleared his throat before saying, "Usually dogs love me."

Dusty tried not to laugh, and it got harder when Stan smirked briefly at him.

"Fang is discerning," Godric said calmly.

"I should have brought him something then. My sheriff was afraid of offending you by sending the wrong sort of tribute. Do you have any suggestions that I may make?"

After a pause, Godric replied, "Bridgette Bardot would be a tribute I would not soon forget."

"The actress?"

"Yes, I hear she is fond of animals. Unlike you."

The other woman here, Dusty thought her name might be Catherine, snickered, then covered her mouth. Stan elbowed her, since he was sitting next to her at the table, smiling himself.

Godric tilted his head towards his door, and said, "You might as well get your business concluded, Reese, and go into my office to tell me what Carlos sent you to me for that he couldn't ask for on the telephone."

"It's Russ, short for Russell."

"No, I think this is a Cairn Terrier, not a Jack Russell."

The dog's face was frozen in a grimacing growl, fangs exposed, lips drawn back.

"You're not a werewolf, are you? Fang hates werewolves."

"No, I'm not."

"I guess you have no excuse than."

Godric closed the door behind them after they went into his office.

Dusty noticed everyone around him started laughing.

"Is he doing that on purpose?"

"Yeah," Stan said. "He doesn't like Carlos much. Probably another idea of how Godric or Carlos can become the next King. No other reason to worry about sending Godric a gift."

"Why would he need Godric if he wants to be King?"

"Godric is under oath to the current King. He may retaliate."

"Would that be a problem?"

"Only if they enjoy being alive."

"Oh, come on."

"Godric's forgiving, but he's formidable. Another sheriff is playing with him now, so he doesn't have time for Carlos. This fiasco should send him back to his corner."

"It'll be a fiasco?"

"Yeah, his errand boy talked too much to you earlier. Are you in or out?"

"Uh, how much?"

"Forty."

"I'm out," Dusty replied, folding his cards. Was he really playing poker with vampires? He then asked, "That dog was Klaus, right?"

"Yeah," Stan agreed.

Isabel added, "Klaus is good when he feels like becoming something different. Godric does not want him endangering himself though."

"'Cause he's stupid as shit," Rex complained, throwing in his cards.

"That's not something he can help," Stan murmured. "Not everyone is born as smart as you think you are."

"Hey," Rex warned.

"Do not argue," Isabel warned. "We are united in front of outsiders."

"Yes, ma'am," Stan agreed, then pursed his lips and made a kissing sound.

"I find you repulsive."

"Maybe I'll get interested in art. Please teach this ignorant barbarian, sweet Isabel."

"You are not old enough to be a real barbarian, simply uncouth."

Stan smiled, before sweeping the chips in the center of the table towards himself.

During the next hand, Russ emerged from Godric's office, red-faced and visibly sweating. Dusty threw in his cards and stood. Russ was limping as he exited because that 'damned dog' bit him.

He drove Russ back to the hotel. Dusty let Russ do the talking. Whatever he was supposed to accomplish failed, but he was blaming everyone but himself. No one warned him that Godric was such a nut case, even for one of them. Strange how he could allude to so much, like earlier, but never come out and say the word 'vampire'.

At least Russ said he'd grab a cab to the airport. Good.

Klaus was in a great mood the next day when Dusty brought in the day's library books, and followed him into the back of the laundromat. He could tell before Klaus even became human and started speaking German so fast that he forgot to add in enough English words for Dusty to make sense of him. The only things he could agree with was Bridgette Bardot was something special, and Klaus could look like the dog from the Wizard of Oz. He wasn't sure, but it may be that Klaus liked that movie. Why not Lassie and Rin Tin Tin too?

Dusty got roped into going out for beer again. This time though, he knew Godric and the rest were vampires.

"How long have you been with Godric?" Dusty asked.

Klaus counted something on his fingers before he said, "Zwan … twenty-three years."

"Did you realize what he was?"

"Oh ja. Godric throw werewolf about like they dolls. Ah … rip them?"

"He killed them?"

"Ja. Godric ist sehr alt. Very strong. They did not run when he told them to go. Dumm … eh, stupid."

"Does he usually kill anyone that doesn't agree with him?"

"Nein … no. Werewolves are bad. They hurt me, und I stupid bear in woods. I not do anything to them."

"So Godric saved your life?"

"Ja, I dying und drink blood … oh, no … I uh … not ..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You have to drink people's blood like them?"

"No."

"What then?"

"I not say. They heal aber not normal. I dead without Godric."

"I don't understand."

"Good. I not say secret."

"So if I was dying, Godric could heal me?"

Klaus looked uncomfortable, then said, "People die. Sometimes they stop that, but I die later."

"Wait, you are alive, right?"

"Ja, for now. I live till old mit Godric. He will not make me like them."

"Do you want to be?"

"No, I not smart. Get killed too easy. They kill each other for fun."

"I've seen them playing cards."

"Ja, not these. Godric not allow."

"Wait, but someone tried to kill Rex, when I first came to meet Isabel?"

"Ja."

"But Godric was there watching?"

"Ja."

"Whatever became of that?"

Klaus shrugged, "I not understand everything they say."

"How's Stan fit in?"

"Stan lives in Dallas. He follows Godric."

"How did he become one?"

"I know not. He ist not young. Good actor. Learn to speak like you."

"I haven't seen him with a dog, or anyone like you."

"No, I or those like me do not nice with them. Godric save me und Godric not care that I not always human."

"Is it like the movies where they sleep in a coffin?"

Klaus sort of laughed, "He could but not. When we outside, he dig hole und sleep. Inside, he stay out of light und sleep. Sometimes under bed, und I sleep on it."

"Not as a dog?"

"No, as man. I say leave me alone und no one look for Godric."

"But you're at the laundromat during the day."

"No one follow me to Godric here."

"He's hidden while he's sleeping?"

"Ja. They more dead than sleep."

"What's it all mean, Klaus?"

"Was … what … I not understand you."

"Vampires."

"They do not choose it. Another vampire does it to them."

"Godric?"

"Godric say he not want to be vampire."

"Has he made anyone a vampire?"

"They not talk about it. There's a bond, like mother und child. Vampires cannot have weakness seen."

"I don't think Godric needs to worry about that. Haven't you said he's stronger and older?"

"Ja. Here, he ist. Many old ones do not want to leave Europe."

"Is Eric old?"

"Erick … ah, no, not as old as Godric."

"He is a vampire too?"

"Ja."

"And has a sheep farm?"

"Ja. Sheep don't care. Sheep are sheep."


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 11**

Dusty lost another job, didn't feel like working for another jerk, and figured that the money he got from delivering books every day but Sundays and holidays, and the little bonuses were enough to keep him on his feet. His landlady was complaining more, but she had nothing better to do than watch her shows with her feet propped up and her hair in rollers all day. Woman never paid to get anything fixed. No reason to complain about the hours he kept because he paid his rent on time.

He went out for lunch with Klaus once or twice a week now. Klaus always insisted that he pay. His English was definitely improving. Dusty guessed it was because Godric usually spoke German to him, there had been no need for him to get better.

Staying out late also meant he got to see more of Isabel, and Godric, Rex, Stan and the others. As the weather changed, they were happy for the end of Daylight Savings time so they could do things at night at decent times, like regular people. Dusty could see that effecting someone as young looking as Godric, even if he did take Klaus along to the movies.

Stan put his bottle of Jimmy Beam in a narrow, single bottle bag and commented, "Still a bottle a day, Dusty?"

"Yeah. Nothing wrong with that."

"It's good for business, but not good for you."

"What do you care?"

"I'm not trying to start a fight, Dusty. I'm only pointing out that you might want to cut back."

"Why? Godric wants me to be more responsible?" 

"Godric's got other things going on, but you know, you could get a better job with him. He can give you more to do. Pay you better."

"I'm fine," Dusty replied with a shrug.

"Think about tomorrow sometime. You won't live as long as some of us, but saving something for later can be worth it."

"Oh, like leaning on the counter of a liquor store every night it getting you places?"

"I like it here. I didn't learn to speak like this to move to New York. Bunch of crazy folk up that way."

"Lot of you up there?"

"I ain't into those kind with their art, opera and museums. If they were really sophisticated, what the hell they doing on this side of the world? At least Isabel's got a real interest in colonial Spanish art and architecture. She should live further south or west, but she'd rather work for Godric."

"Why?"

"She doesn't like to live dangerously. She's been nagging him, and he's having a house built for them. I don't know if he's really gonna live in it."

"Why not?"

"Even if it's a fortress, it's not exactly safe to draw attention to ourselves. Godric's used to going to ground too. Isabel's too fond of hot water and electric hair dryers."

"I don't mind her looking her best," Dusty mused.

Stan laughed, "You're not her type. Isabel likes the boring, overeducated, older guy. Accountants, lawyers, … basically a man who wears a suit, shined shoes, and those silly little sock suspenders. You and I aren't like that. Twit like hers'll think he's died and gone to heaven to get a woman like that. What you need is someone to keep house, not some princess who doesn't want to get her hands dirty."

"You got a girl who gets her hands dirty?"

"No, I like them vapid, yet built." Stan made a wide-handed, curving gesture to illustrate what he meant. "If it's windy, there's a whistling sound coming from their ears. Lot of them sort in Dallas. Big, white, straight teeth too. I didn't realize it till I started looking around here, what a nice smile does for a face."

"If you're working here, how do you meet them? You can't go to a bar."

"I got my secrets," Stan mysteriously replied. "It's not like I'm lookin' to keep 'em around. Some of us like someone around to keep things clean, but it's not like I need someone to cook, and with Godric's place doing that wash and fold thing, I don't need some woman to do my laundry."

"Did you have family?"

"I did, but that's not something you come right out and ask one of us. Our new life starts when we're turned, and we got to leave all that behind. Our families would realize right away there's something wrong with us, if we went back to them. When we're new, even though we don't look it, we're like children, needing to learn the new rules. And we're always hungry. Don't want to have an accident around the wife and children, where you go out of your skull with hunger and bite them. Staying close to whoever turned us into a vampire's the way it has to be. They're stronger, and they can order us to stop misbehaving."

"It's really only blood?" 

"Yeah, and it's humans. I can't get blood from a cow or something else. I'm older so I don't get urges, like I used to, and don't need as much. I can't go as long as someone like Godric, but he needs to feed or he'll look off. With lighting getting better, we can't fake it as much as we could with candlelight.

"You're looking a bit off yourself, Dusty. That's why I asked if you were thinking of cutting back. It's not even winter yet. That's when I used to drink more to stay warm. You know? So what's it about, you were drinking before you knew about us, so it's not because you're scared of Godric. If you say you don't want to work for him any more, he wouldn't do anything to you."

"I don't think I'm scared of him, and he's the easiest and best-paying job I ever had."

"He'll pay you more if you do more than library books," Stan hinted.

"This is fine."

"Don't you have any ambition?"

"Not really. I got all I need, Stan."

Stan laughed and murmured, "Pretty crazy to be hanging with a shifter and vampires and thinking everything's fine."

"No, crazy is letting them fly you to the other side of the world, sending you into a jungle, and shooting everyone that looks like they could shoot from so far away they can't even see me to shoot back."

Shaking his head, Stan said, "When I was human, I fought too. Can't do too much now, with being only out at night, and I can't see the point of these fights. My country is changed, and I don't have any high ideals. If the majority of people want something, why not let them have it? Unless you're among the minority that already has it and don't want to share."

"I'm done with that saving democracy stuff."

"Democracy's changed. The United States is not even a democracy. Representatives are elected to vote for you. Even in ancient Athens, only about a tenth of the population could vote, or so Godric says."

"He probably read that somewhere."

Stan nodded. For all he knew, Godric was there. The sheriff was mysterious about where he was from, but those tattoos did not match up with what he overheard. Definitely not Greek though. Godric was an Anglo-Saxon or old English name. That was roughly from 500-1200, northern Europe, and could be used any time after that. It may not even be his name, but likely since he had a couple visitors who knew him in Europe as Godric. Stan's was recently changed to Stan Davis when he invested in businesses in Dallas. He hoped to use it for twenty or thirty years because it was a pain to have to change his name and transfer things over, if it wasn't a pile of cash, because it left a trail of legal documents.

The bell on the door rang. Stan guessed, "Not a customer."

He was right. Scruffy dude had a gun. Stan didn't waste time since Dusty knew, and commanded, "Put the gun down on the counter in front of me."

The robber did as Stan requested, and then Stan said, "Follow me." To Dusty, he said, "Be back in a couple."

"You're not gonna …?"

"I know. Sheriff doesn't like killin' so this one'll leave alive and with a new attitude towards stealing."

Dusty clarified, "Godric?"

"Yeah, he doesn't want us treating people like … uh, poorly."

He watched them go in the back, glanced out the window, eyeballed the gun on the counter, and wondered what he was supposed to do if another customer showed up.

Stan didn't keep him waiting long. The almost robber walked dazedly to the front of the store. Stan walked back into the store while putting his hat back on, and stopped by one of the refrigerated cases, taking out a six-pack of Bud. He passed his prey, bagged the six-pack, and put the gun under the counter.

Leaning on the counter, Stan named a price and the guy took out his wallet, paying for the beer. He picked up the bag and left.

"You made him buy something?" Dusty chuckled.

"I did ask him which brand he drank first," Stan replied with feigned indignation. "Didn't want him to get confused when he got home."

"You're too much. I'm gonna get going."

"Good night."

Dusty got up late the next morning, went into his little kitchen and cursed. He forgot to go to the post office again yesterday. It was just down the street from one of the library branches. Since he had a mailbox downstairs, he only got a postcard that there was a letter he had to sign for, and he had to go to them to get it. It was probably some damned, stupid notice from the government.

He went to that specific branch of the library first, then swung by the post office. They were both in the wrong direction to go to the laundromat. The library was a smaller one, but there were enough books for Dusty to pick from.

The letter he signed for was postmarked from some guy in Dallas. Dusty ripped it open. He got fired, but never did something illegal or stole from any of his jobs. What the hell? His do-nothing landlady sent him a 30 day notice to clear out … dated 28 days ago? This was bullshit.

Knocking and yelling at her apartment door when she wouldn't answer it, when he could hear the television being turned up to drown him out, accomplished something. Cops showed up and took Dusty for a ride to the police station. He hadn't done anything. What was wrong with trying to find out why he got this letter?

He was charged with disorderly conduct, which was more total bullshit. Then they put him in a cell because of some asinine accusation from his landlady that he was mentally unbalanced from the war, and she was afraid for her life.

When he unexpectedly got pulled out and told he could make a phone call, Dusty was stumped. He had friends still in the service overseas, his parents were gone, he had a cousin in Oklahoma, but why would he bother him over this nonsense? There were a couple people who's names he knew from work that he could look up, if the phone book they offered him didn't look like it doubled as toilet paper, but if one of them called Dusty, what could he do for them? Say 'tough luck, chum'? It was too early to call Stan at the liquor store, and that sort of sobered him up. Why the hell would he call the guy that owned a liquor store, even if he was a good customer? This was so ridiculous.

Using as little of his fingers and hands that he could, Dusty went to the yellow pages and called the laundromat.

He knew the woman's voice that answered in a bored tone, "Tiny Bubbles."

"This is Dusty. Can I talk to Klaus?"

"Does he need to talk back, or just listen?"

"Talk back, or wait, I'm at …" Dusty looked at the information on the wall, and told her the name of the police station. "I could use some help, but I'm not in serious trouble."

"You got into trouble at the library?"

"No, but I don't know a lot of people that are home right now in Dallas, and since I got my phone call now ..."

"You'd call your friend here?" the woman supplied, mirth barely held back. "What are you being held for?"

"Disorderly conduct. I was knocking at a door, knew someone was there, and when she didn't answer started yelling."

"And I thought you were a gentleman, Dusty," she chided.

"No, it was my landlady. She's tossing me out, even though I pay my rent on time."

"Okay. I'll explain it slow to him."

"Before you do, do you have any ideas?"

"Sit tight, Dusty. I'll write down where you are, and give it to Lee for the evening shift. I'm not sure how good your friend's skills are at solving this problem, but later, someone might come up with an idea."

"Thanks," he responded, not sure if he was going to get help, or another phone call tomorrow, if no one showed up or whatever. Dusty guessed something would have to happen in front of a judge. He knew there was some law about keeping people in jail without seeing a judge.

It was not dark yet when he got called out of the cell again, being told his lawyer was here. Since when did he have a lawyer? Or more incredible, since when did Klaus know a lawyer? Or more likely was Klaus was trying to pass himself off as a lawyer? God damn, Dusty was going to spend a long time in jail.

The fellow sitting at the table was not Klaus. Praise the Lord. He even looked lawyer-like with a suit, briefcase, and even had one of those yellow papered notepads.

"Have a seat, Dedalus."

With a frown at the use of his real name, he sat with a "Thanks."

"What were your plans earlier today?"

"After the library and post office, I thought I was going to work, but when I got that letter I signed for, I thought I better go talk to my landlady to see if there was some mistake. I always pay my rent on time. Every month on the first."

"Okay. Were you loud and disorderly when she refused to open the door?"

"I guess, I might have been because I heard her turn up the volume on the television like I wasn't even there."

"She did not tell you to desist?"

"No, she didn't yell anything to me."

"Considering this incident, are you in favor of moving out?"

"I guess, but I could'a used a bit more warning. Now I gotta find someplace."

"There's gonna be a ten day restraining order against you. Don't even say 'boo' during the time to her. Just clear out your stuff to move. Do you have a deposit that needs to be returned?"

"Yeah, I didn't damage anything."

"Okie doke. I'll see how soon I can get you out of here."

"Uh, thanks."

Dusty got led back to his shared cell, and about two hours later was told he could go. As he signed for his stuff, Dusty saw Klaus nervously sitting in one of the chairs outside where he was, wearing jeans and that blue pullover sweater from Norway. He was bouncing his leg quickly and chewing his finger.

"Hi Klaus, you got me a lawyer?"

Klaus stood and looked a bit crazy eyed. Then shook his head. Lowly, he slowly explained, "I woke Godric."

"Is that bad?"

"Ich weiss … don't know. He talk not much when sun out. Gave me phone number and …" Klaus looked at a crumpled paper from his pocket, "Dadeloose ..."

"That's the name I get arrested under."

"Not Dusty?"

"That's the name I use with friends."

Klaus nodded as he walked along beside Dusty outside.

"So I got to speak to Godric?"

"He not say. Gave me my passport so I have name papers if I need."

"You … oh, you don't drive do you?"

"Nein, I only have this. Show I German." He laughed, then said, "I see Godric now from United States. His old one could not match his age no more."

"I have to move. Do you know anyplace, or do you think I can nap on the couch in back there till I find someplace?"

"With me, not good."

"Not like that. I mean a couple days at most, maybe not even. I have till the first, or actually the day before the first."

"Not with me," Klaus repeated. "I not … I don't … I talk to Godric."

"You don't have to. Godric already did enough with giving you the lawyer's number." Dusty then looked around, then asked, "If you don't drive, how did you get here?"

"Lawyer driven me. Now I walk with you."

"I'm going home. My car's parked there so I can give you a ride back. I got books in the car for Godric from earlier."

Dusty noticed Klaus become more agitated once they got in the car. When they got to the laundromat, he looked around wildly from his seat before getting out.

"What's wrong?"

"Feel strange to be night und out with no Godric."

Lee, the constantly reading college student, let them in the back, and only Rex was there, reading a newspaper.

Klaus looked in Godric's office, and Dusty put the library books away in the drawer. "I don't know if I'll have time to go to the library tomorrow, so I'm going to leave the returns here. None are overdue, Klaus, but I'm afraid I could mix them in with my things. Okay?"

"Ja," he replied and then sat in the chair behind the desk, which Dusty considered Godric's, even though he sat in it himself when no one was here to easily access the desk drawers.

Dusty went back home, skipping the liquor store, because he wasn't sure what Stan knew. He needed boxes, and he knew he could get them from Stan, but he didn't have that much to pack. Maybe he'd ask Stan if he knew of someplace cheap to rent.

It was hard falling asleep without anything to drink so Dusty was still awake when there was a soft tapping on his door in the wee hours of the morning.

"Who's there?" he demanded.

"It is I, Dusty" was the wise-ass response, but Dusty realized it was Godric's voice.

He opened the door, and stood back.

Godric was dressed in a pressed white, button-down, shirt and dark slacks, like he was many nights.

"Am I in trouble?"

Lowly, Godric said, "It's true that we need to be invited inside."

"What?"

"I cannot cross the threshold of a human dwelling without an invitation."

"Uh, okay. Come in." Dusty got some lights turned on.

"Thank you, Dusty," Godric replied, entering.

He closed the door, and repeated, "So am I in trouble?"

"Not especially, but please do not call Klaus like that again."

"I didn't originally mean to call him, but I was stumped as to who would be home during the day."

Nodding that he heard, Godric asked, "There is only one room here?"

"Yeah, but it's big."

"Do you want to continue living here?"

"I did, but if my landlady's gonna be bitchier and go callin' the cops when I ask why I got a letter tellin' me to move out, no, I don't."

Pacing to look more closely at things, Godric suggested, "I could change her mind, if you like."

"No, I don't need more trouble."

"She'd honestly change it if I made her. No one would know except you and I."

"Oh, you mean that thing when you tell people to leave you alone or forget they saw you?"

"Yes," Godric replied, looking at full can of empty bottles. Dusty did not bother taking his trash out regularly.

"That's all right to keep you a secret, but I'm normal. I can move."

"I am abnormal?"

"That's not what I meant, just that I understand why vampires need to stay a secret, if you aren't hurting anyone."

"Does it hurt anyone for you to continue to live here?"

"You're probably right, but now that I have something with the police over this, it would make sense for me to move."

"Very well. I will not tamper with your landlady more than necessary to extricate you from legal trouble."

"Huh?"

"She will be unharmed, and her memories will be unaltered. I'll even leave her attitude towards you unchanged, if I can."

"Okay," Dusty slowly agreed. "How'd you know where I lived?"

"Isabel knew your address."

"Do you usually visit people in the middle of the night?"

"You were awake," Godric responded.

"How did you know?"

"My hearing is quite good."


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 12**

Dusty spent a fruitless day looking around. He didn't think he was picky, but there was some things even he expected out of a place to live.

Strange thing was, when he got up that morning, there was an envelope on the floor inside his door with a check for his deposit back. That was unexpected.

Stan told Dusty, "You can take as many boxes as you want. It saves me or someone breaking them down for trash."

"I guess you heard?"

"Yeah," Stan answered with a bit of a smile.

"What? You know of somewhere I can move?"

"Oh no, it's … maybe it's just me, but I found it funny you called the shifter."

"What's so funny about that? Klaus said he woke Godric. Does that mean he got in trouble?"

"Nah, Godric's fine. Stuff like that don't get Godric riled, or else he wouldn't let Klaus stick around. I'm surprised Klaus actually thought. He's not much into thinking."

"Is it because he spends so much time as a dog?"

"He's not that much at thinking as a human either."

"I think you're being unnecessarily prejudiced against him."

"Okay, he got you out of jail, so you have to like him for a while. I get it."

"It was daytime. I don't have a list of people to call to bail me out of jail at a moment's notice."

"That's all right. Godric's lawyer has got to be good to get any of us out before dawn."

"You let yourself get arrested?"

"It depends. We can't do unusual stuff with a lot of witnesses, so it's easier to wait for an opportunity where there's less people. Don't worry though, if one of us does something really wrong, we'll get sprung, but have to face our own laws. But sometimes it might be kinder to burn up in a cell when the sun rises. The one guy that's a judge for us gets creative. Godric knows him well, so he can usually work something out, or get it swept under the carpet, if it's not serious shit."

"What if it is serious shit?"

"Well then, Godric can be counted on to tell the truth. He's not much for guessing at why, or coming up with something elaborate to make himself look like some hero."

"So what's that mean for you?"

"I know how far I can go before I'm in trouble. This is a quiet place for us because Godric's got a low tolerance for some things, like accidents to your kind. That means overall that this whole area's safe from more powerful vampires thinking they need to come in here to shake things up, unless they're idiots, like them over in Area 10."

"Are they trouble?"

Stan shrugged, "Eventually she's gonna push Godric too far, and he'll snap. He did that on Area 8, few years back, when no one would do anything about it."

"I can't picture Godric snapping."

"Dumping a dozen bodies behind the laundromat can't be ignored. That puts us at risk. Shifter ain't used to smelling death, hanging around with Godric, so he caught a whiff of that shit right away."

"And you were calling Klaus dumb."

"I didn't call him totally useless. It's not easy for us to trust each other, much less another supernatural."

"What about humans?"

"Why, worried? We need to trust sometimes. It's picking the right people. I vouched for you. You mess up, Isabel, Godric and Rex will remember it, besides me remembering it. Oh, and Klaus'll remember it too, if you cross Godric."

"Thanks," Dusty replied sarcastically. He didn't need a reminder that vampires could be dangerous, or that Klaus was unpredictable and homicidal.

The next day did not go well. His boxes were packed, and the most important stuff was in his car. Dusty didn't have much, but his little bit of furniture was too big to fit in with the boxes.

Although he didn't have any books today, Dusty went by the laundromat to find out if Klaus had any ideas since he last spoke to him.

While still buttoning his shirt, Klaus looked at him and asked, "Me? Why could I help? I said I could not."

Dusty did not have any definite expectations, but he knew Klaus wasn't so removed from real things. Since he had been coming later, he noticed sometimes there was something circled in red in the newspaper. Nothing important – a television show or movie, and when he asked, Isabel said do not throw the paper out because it was something Klaus circled for Godric. They went to the dullest movies, and Dusty found out they watched television together out in the public part of the laundromat. Being an immortal vampire was not all it was cracked up to be. Godric was nothing like a vampire in the movies.

"So what do you think I should I do?"

Klaus shrugged and replied, "I know not. This is foreign, and I can make myself change."

"Besides being with Godric a long time."

"Ja."

"Isn't Godric ever without someplace?"

"Ah … he careful. Can also stay awake, if danger. In Europe, there are hostels … but I not stay in any since we come here. For traveling youth. Not much there, but inexpensive."

"We got motels, but I can't live in one of them, and it'll add up to money."

Klaus made some sort of face, and Dusty hoped it meant he was thinking. Maybe Stan was right, and Klaus didn't think much, because he'd never seen his brow furrowed like that.

Dusty hesitated to say anything, in case Klaus needed quiet.

The door to the laundromat opened, and the attendant barked, "You're wanted on the phone, dog."

"Huh?"

Slowly, she said, "The tel-e-phone. For you."

Klaus went though the door, and picked up the phone with a "Ja?" After a pause, he started speaking fast in German and waving his free hand in the air.

"I didn't think he got calls," Dusty muttered.

"You're not Godric."

Dusty looked at the glass windows. It was still daytime. Dusty didn't understand German, but he did recognize his name said multiple times, before Klaus held out the phone in his direction and said, "Sie spechen zu ihm." [you speak to him]

With trepidation, Dusty took the phone and asked, "Yes?"

"What is the problem with Klaus? He is quite agitated over you."

"Uh ..."

"I can feel Klaus, in case that has never been explained."

"You … uh, well, I only asked him if he knew of someplace ..."

"Dedalus, how do you think Klaus can help you with that?"

"I'm not sure."

"What is the current problem? Please state it for me."

"State it?"

"From Klaus, it is not concise."

"Today's the last day of the month, and I haven't found a new place, and I have boxes in my car, and stuff still in the apartment."

"How much is in the apartment?"

"Just some furniture. Not a lot."

"Would it be possible to move those items with a pickup truck? Perhaps Stan will allow you to stash some items in his storeroom."

"I guess."

"You will need to ask Stan. He has the truck also."

"Okay."

"Is that enough of a solution so Klaus will be at ease now?"

"Yeah."

"I will see you tonight?"

"I guess, after I take care of getting my stuff moved. Are you angry at me?"

"No. I am disappointed that you cannot handle simple tasks such as prioritizing you need somewhere to live. It is not anger."

"Uh, yeah, well, okay and thanks." Dusty knew Godric spoke strangely at times from too much reading, but as long as he wasn't angry, it was okay.

There was a clicking noise as Godric hung up the telephone on his end.

Dusty hung up the phone, and noticed the disapproving look that he was getting from the woman that worked at the counter.

"What?"

"You shouldn't involve them in stupid ass stuff like this."

"I'm not doing it on purpose."

"Was ist los?" Klaus asked.

"And you," she said, giving the rangy, washed-out blonde a dirty look of his own, "know I don't speak your Kraut shit."

"Shit? Sie sollten nicht mit jedem Profanität, Frau."

"That means nothing to me. Take your friend, and go play with him in the back."

Dusty had no idea what Klaus was muttering to himself as he opened the 'employees only' door. He didn't like the way she said it, but if Klaus wasn't arguing, he better stay out of trouble too.

Klaus took a dog biscuit from a bowl, and bit the end with a loud crunching.

"Do you really like those?" Dusty asked.

"Ja. Godric fix all?"

"No, but he gave me an idea to ask Stan to borrow his pickup and put some stuff in his backroom at the liquor store."

"Stan …," Klaus repeated slowly, before he suddenly said, "Ah, ja, Stan. He wears a hat."

"Isn't he German too?"

"No … I mean, yes. Now he German. He may switch to American, like Godric. They cannot use old papers with names or it strange. Need to have current. I age so I stay German."

Dusty would never believe Klaus wasn't. Stan did a good job at pretending to be from around here. Godric, not really, yet he wasn't clearly foreign where he could pick somewhere for him to be from. It wasn't as if they were spying for foreign countries either, like Russia. Actually, they were sort of running their own little United Nations in the back of the laundromat because none of them seemed to be from the same place.

Maybe he should have thought Godric's answer was overly simplistic, prior to getting a narrow-eyed glare from Stan that evening.

"Borrow my truck?" Stan repeated coldly, "And store what where?"

"It was just an idea Godric had earlier today."

"Why do you keep waking his ass up? You will not get good ideas from us during the day, idiot. You'll get 'make this stop so I can go back to fuckin' sleep' ideas." Stan paused, then asked, "He specifically said I could help you?"

"Not really. He suggested since I didn't have a lot of furniture that I could ask you to borrow the truck and store it here till I found someplace."

"He did?" Stan said more to himself. "Why would he do that?"

Unlike Dusty, Stan knew Godric was vampire, and vampires did not make suggestions to help humans come up with a simple solution. Godric meant something by it. But what? What did Godric want? Stan wanted to say 'hell no', but what would that mean to Godric? He recommended Dusty for a job, and didn't trust him himself to borrow a vehicle and move some items? That didn't sound good. Stan was supposed to act like he had some faith in this worm. Humans, they should be on their knees before them, not … it went back to what Godric said. Shit. He had to act like he trusted Dusty. Loaning a car or truck was minor. Stan wasn't about to let him know where he rested, or anything important.

"It'll all fit in one trip? I keep stuff for the store back there. This ain't a warehouse."

"I guess. Your truck's like normal size?"

"It's not a moving van," Stan complained, while taking his keys out of his pocket. "But it's big enough. It's a ¾ ton Longhorn."

"Oh, that's got the longer bed, right?"

"It's only another six inches, Dusty."

Stan pulled his wallet out to get his registration. His mail came here to the store, so that wasn't a problem either. He didn't know of any vampires who used their resting place as their mailing address. That was suicidal. Though sometimes all Stan wanted to do was go live in a cave somewhere. Government nosiness was out of control. Needed a license to do anything, and then everyone needed to see it. At least this country was inhabited by a bunch of stubborn nonconformists that questioned the necessity of every rule so he could move around without having to flash a passport or glamour a line of officials. It was slightly better than anarchy since they didn't run around all day setting everything on fire.

Dusty thought ahead, and asked, "So you're working now?"

"Yeah. Godric did not claim I'd move things too, did he? That crosses the line."

"No, he didn't, but how does that cross the line?"

Stan gave a brief laugh, before saying, "You are a lower life form. I don't schlep your junk. I don't even move mine, if I don't have to."

"What?"

"Yeah, we're strong, but you'll only see us doin' that when we're throwin' it at each other. Ask the shifter. He's stronger than human."

"Klaus?"

"Hm mm. They look normal, except him, but they're some of your stronger or more athletic types. Now that athletes are getting more than just medals, I bet you'll see more of them out there, doing things."

"You mean like playing baseball and football?"

"Sure. They don't need to change, and even if they're only related to weres, because there's something about eldest and both parents or some shit, they're usually more muscular."

"What about your kind, if they're better?"

"Hell no. We can't let humans touch us, 'cause they'll feel we're cold. We don't breathe, and our hearts aren't beating. It's not a good idea, and anyone we catch doing that will get in trouble. We're part of a secret world existing alongside yours. A few weres chasing after balls ain't a problem. Probably the only thing they're good at."

"You really don't like them?"

"Course not. They're not fond of us either. Lot of other supernaturals don't like vampires because they like to think of themselves as part of nature. Obviously, undead are not natural."

"Klaus doesn't seem to care."

"He's damaged, and would have died long ago if it weren't for Godric keeping him as a pet."

Dusty frowned. Klaus was a person, not a pet.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 13**

Klaus turned out to be stronger than he looked, and didn't mind going down the stairs backward to help him. He then got put to work making space in Stan's storeroom because Stan said he had to watch the register, completely forgetting the time he left Dusty standing out there when he did whatever he did to that robber who he then made buy a six-pack.

Maybe Klaus was too easy-going because he thanked Dusty for buying him some beer from Stan. Dusty asked him to pick it, since he didn't know the difference between that dark crap that got left at the bottom of the barrel.

Dusty was trying to pay attention to his driving between Stan's liquor store and Godric's laundromat, yet was aware that Klaus was drinking all the beer during the short trip.

"You don't want to save any of that for later?"

"I cannot drink beer at the laundromat. Godric not like."

"I meant in the store part."

Klaus looked at him oddly, "A man, without any laundry, sitting at the table with bottles of beer? No, Godric not like."

"Can't you wash Godric's clothes?"

"I cannot wash. That's woman's work."

Even with Klaus' English much improved since they met, Dusty knew that couldn't be what Klaus really meant. "I wash my clothes because I'm not married, Klaus."

Klaus did not say something in response, yet made a derisive sounding noise.

Dusty silently thought that's a prime reason why Klaus only had Godric. If he didn't change into a dog all the time, he might notice women. There were some weird ones that might not mind he had that scar right in the middle of his face.

All too soon, the beer was gone, and Dusty was parking outside the laundromat. Trying to recall that Godric said he was not angry and wanted to see him tonight, Dusty went in with Klaus. He had nowhere else to be.

Isabel was on the telephone in the back, and nodded in their direction. Dusty didn't care what Stan said about her. She was beautiful and always wore the right outfit. He'd put on a suit and tie if it would get a date with her.

Godric was at the table, alone. There was no card game going on. He was looking healthy tonight, and also looking young because he was kneeling on the chair and leaning his elbows on the table while studying something in the newspaper.

He said something in German, and Klaus shrugged in response.

"Dusty?" Godric asked.

"Yes?"

"Do you know how fast it is when something goes at the speed of sound?"

"No, why?"

"An airplane that they may used for flying passengers over the ocean went faster than sound. I was wondering how fast that was compared to the normal airplanes. This speculates it may be three or four hours from London to Washington. It is hard for us to travel over the ocean going east. Westward, we travel with nightfall and gives more time. There are less Asian vampires in the United States due to that."

"There's Asian vampires?"

"Of course."

"Wait, what about Negros? I mean, they can't get as pale as you?"

"Yes, there are Moors and such, and their condition is not as evident to the human eye."

"Why haven't I seen any?"

"I don't know. I would allow all sensible vampires to dwell in my area. Some want to be surrounded by others from their own lands, yet I believe I am alone now."

"Nein, Godric," Klaus refuted.

"Yes, I have you, Klaus."

"Your items were moved, Dusty?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"There is no need to thank me. I did nothing."

After tracing a line of text with his finger, Godric sat up and folded the newspaper slowly.

Klaus paced about, and when he got near Godric said something in German and touched his shoulder. Godric looked up at him, and shook his head.

The shifter continued talking in an agitated manner, and Dusty didn't appreciate getting pointed at, especially when it was followed by a quick glance from Godric who didn't appear to be agreeing. Dusty did not want to be accused of helping Klaus grow a backbone.

Godric stood, said something that got Klaus to stand back, and went into his office and closed the door.

Klaus sat down heavily in the seat Godric vacated, and looked down at the newspaper.

Dusty looked from Klaus, to Godric's door, and noticed Isabel was now off the phone. She was looking at him.

"Something's wrong?" Dusty asked.

"Do you know what Klaus asked?"

He looked at Klaus, who was now holding the newspaper in front of his face, and replied, "I don't speak German."

"You didn't talk to Klaus first?"

"Nein," Klaus interrupted, still hiding. "Dusty know not."

Dusty looked back to Isabel and guessed, "You speak German?"

"Around here, I need to. They're mostly from central and eastern Europe, and German became a necessity for years. I preferred French being the universal language. They even spoke it in the Russian court. I've given up hope of Spanish becoming prevalent."

"So what did Klaus do?"

"Nothing that would be unexpected from Klaus. He saw a simple solution. Godric compromised by saying he'd think about it."

"What?" Dusty asked, still not knowing what was going on.

Isabel shook her head in response, and Dusty admired her slight, teasing smile.

Klaus noisily turned the page, interrupting Dusty's thoughts as he watched Isabel pluck a quarter out of a cup and insert it into the pay phone.

Dusty sat next to him, and asked, "What did you do?"

"I did nothing but ask Godric for you to sleep in his resting place."

Eyes widening, Dusty didn't know what to say. Klaus said Godric did not sleep in a coffin, but he'd be okay sleeping in his car for a night or two. It wasn't really cold yet.

"Godric have mess there," Klaus explained.

Dusty realized that Klaus must have gone wherever Godric rested to talk to him when Dusty was in jail. Did he mean mess as in a single guy living alone, or mess as in trouble?

"That's okay, Klaus. I'll be fine."

"Where you sleep?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll find someplace tomorrow."

"If so easy, why not yesterday?" Klaus grumbled, still looking at the newspaper.

Dusty chose not to reply, since the only thing that came to mind was not everyone could turn into a dog and curl up on the floor.

Only a couple vampires came by tonight, and once Isabel was done on the phone, she left. Godric's door remained closed.

"Is he sulking?" Dusty finally asked, unable to stand the silence. He could leave, but thought perhaps he should stay till Godric came back out.

"Sulking?" Klaus repeated. "Was ist das?"

The German 'was ist das?' was 'what is that?'. It was easier for Dusty to learn this frequent phrase of Klaus', than Klaus overcoming his habit of blurting out the first thing he thought.

"He's not happy," Dusty clarified.

"Godric? Godric not happy most times."

"You're not understanding. I mean is Godric upset because of what you asked?"

"I understand. I've seen Godric happy. He not happy here. Upset? No. Godric does not get upset. Enttäuscht? Uh …" Klaus' hand went to his chest as he searched for the words, "... sad inside."

"What makes him happy?"

Klaus jerked his head, then muttered, "Someone not here."

"I thought Godric said he didn't have a girlfriend. Was he married?"

Dusty got an intense stare from Klaus' barely blue eyes, which almost made his own eyes water, then Klaus sighed, before saying, "No. Yet I think they can be two, like married. Vampires different than us. Live so long, but do not have same sort of family. Not mother, father, children, grandchildren. Brothers are not brothers with them."

Even though he did not have siblings, Dusty got the idea of loneliness, but Godric had other vampires stopping in all the time. There was also Isabel. Dusty wouldn't find her company uninteresting.

"What do you think he's doing in there?" Dusty asked, glancing at the clock. He knew Godric had no library books. It was also three in the morning. If Stan was coming by, he'd be here by now.

Klaus doubted Godric was listening to them, so attempted to explain, "The word not known. He can think or pray yet not actively. Godric will know when morning coming."

"That's hours away."

"Time is different for him."

"Not really," Dusty argued. "There's still minutes slowly going by, and we get tired at night. Doesn't he know when you're tired?"

"I slept most of the day. The machine sounds not bother me. When people talk to Mary, I wake."

Feeling too tired to appreciate that Klaus gave up the knitter's name, Dusty asked, "So you want to do something?"

"Something?" Klaus repeated.

"Yeah, while we wait, or should I go?"

"Where you go?"

Dusty shrugged.

"Wait," Klaus advised.

He asked, "Anything good in the paper?" as he slid it in front of him. Dusty had no idea where the rest of Godric's newspapers from today were.

"Not enough pictures."

Dusty was looking over the legal notices in the classifieds when Godric opened his office door.

"Eat before you come over," Godric said unexpectedly. "I'll leave the doors unlocked. Lock them when you come in, Klaus."

"Ja. Selbstverständlich, Godric."

Still trying to comprehend what Godric had said, he spoke to Dusty directly, "Let Klaus know when you are leaving, during the day, so he can lock up after you."

"Right," Dusty agreed, "and uh ... thanks."

"Your gratitude is premature, Dusty. You'll have to move my books off the sofa to use it."

"Okay," he said, before registering that Klaus was snickering quietly.

Godric left, or more like disappeared, and Dusty said, "My breakfast comes from the diner that's open all the time."

"Why were you laughing?"

"Godric has many books."

"So what do you do, turn into a mouse?"

"I sleep with Godric. As dog."

"Godric having books is funny?"

"No, I tell him you wash and clean like woman to get him to let you stay."

"That's not funny."


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 14**

Klaus instructed Dusty to park on a street with no parking spaces available. When Dusty pointed that out, Klaus responded, "Das ist the only street without coin machines. We can park farther. I can walk."

Dusty thought that was easy for Klaus to say because he did not have all his things in the car and was going to leave it parked somewhere all day.

Since Dusty was driving around the block, he could see plenty of empty meter parking. They were near enough to the courthouse, that the older houses and buildings here were now dominated by law offices and related parasitic businesses. Besides municipal court, there was also county and federal ones in Dallas.

He found a spot without a meter as someone was pulling out, and parallel parked.

Klaus got out and after turning around on the sidewalk said, "That way. I come from laundry when I come here."

Looking through his stuff, Dusty chose a box to bring with him so he at least had his razor and deodorant. Couldn't rent a place looking like a bum.

Klaus led the way for blocks, but kept looking shifty as his head swiveled to look around. It was still early and the streets were empty since lawyers didn't get up at the crack of dawn and get to work like honest folk.

Among the houses, painted with their trim all fussy in contrasting colors, Klaus turned and went up the wide walk and front stairs to the porch. He was pretty much the definition of the words 'suspicious character' as he tested the ornate brass doorknob of the big-paned door.

The door opened and Klaus gestured impatiently. After Dusty passed him, Klaus locked up.

It was pretty much what Dusty expected from the street. Strips of flowered carpeting down the wooden plank hall and up the stairs, potted plants and a brass umbrella stand. The walls were painted and had a white chair rail at waist height.

The floor creaked as Dusty went down the hall towards the back of the building. He stopped at the end and opened a narrow door, quite unlike the formidable office door nearby with its frosted glass with gold lettering.

Rather than a closet under the stairs, it was narrow stairs leading down into a basement, complete with spider webs and stale, underground smell. Once Klaus shut it, it was dark stairs without a clue where the spider webs were hanging at face height until Dusty ran into them.

Quietly, Klaus said, "Light cord hanging down at bottom. Pull it."

"Why didn't you go first?"

"I lock door."

After carefully stepping down each step, Dusty found the floor and flung his hand through the air to find the hanging string to click on the light. Some cheap ass put in the lowest watt bulb possible so the furnace and what Dusty guessed was a water heater behind it were in shadow. He snorted noticing the utility meters. What a crummy job that must be, reading them around here.

Klaus opened an even smaller door and said, "In there."

"You're kidding?"

"Nein. Godric leave light on. You not fall."

Aw hell. Godric had piles of books and paper everywhere, once Dusty got past the clear semi-circle necessary to open the door.

When he stopped, without entering, Klaus shoved him from behind to get the door closed, "Move."

Dusty tripped and went face first into a tower of books that bordered other towers of books, spreading towards the wall where the piles were almost as high as the ceiling.

"Ungeschickt Maultier," Klaus muttered in disgust at the mess that was made, pulling Dusty upright by the back of his shirt before turning to lock the door, and place thick boards into the brackets on either side to further reinforce it against unwanted entry.

"Klaus?" Godric's voice called.

"Ja, ich bin gleich da sein." Pointing, Klaus said, "The toilette's in there. Don't bring food here because Godric not like the smell."

Dusty looked around and asked, "The couch?"

"Unter the books," Klaus answered, like it was obvious. He unbuttoned his shirt, and added, "You can leave light on so not fall."

Rather than watching Klaus continue to undress, Dusty stared in the direction of the books that might cover furniture, since he did not see the bottom of the piles, due to other books being in the way.

Glancing to see what Klaus was doing, he was surprised to see a very large, dark rabbit with monstrous paws on its way out of the room, taking a narrow path through the stacks. Dusty thought Klaus could only turn into real animals, not things from storybooks.

Great. He was really tired, had nowhere to lie down, and Klaus gave Godric some impression that Dusty would clean things up, which was impossible. Where would he put anything here? There was no place for him to put down his one box. Maybe the bathroom.

Concentrating on his slow progress without causing an avalanche, Dusty hadn't realized there was a constant stream of quiet German being spoken between Klaus and Godric till he stopped to look around and try to figure out his next step. If it was past dawn, why was Godric doing anything?

"Godric? Klaus?"

"Was ist los, Dusty?" Klaus answered.

"Can I leave my stuff in the bathroom?"

"Ja."

Once Dusty got completely to the other side of the room, there were two doors to darkness. The one on the right was closed over, only open about an inch, so Dusty reached inside the other one and found a light switch on the wall.

Godric hadn't moved anything in anticipation of him staying because there was a pile of folded, white towels on the closed seat of the toilet. There was nowhere else to put them except the floor, unless Dusty refolded them into rectangles that would fit on top of the toilet tank.

The bathroom was small, but there was a shower head, with a half-wall tiled to keep the water in that section with the floor drain. Godric's dirty laundry bag was on the spot of floor furthest from that, so he had no place for the stack of clean towels for now. Dusty put his box down next to that, and figured he'd put the towels on that when he needed to use the can.

Most importantly now, he needed to find that couch out there, or find a patch of floor to pass out on, if he couldn't.

Since Godric nor Klaus yelled at him for knocking over books with his body when he came in, Dusty took only a brief moment to double check that he couldn't see any sort of order to them. Godric barely bothered to put the big books on the bottom. There were large books mixed in all over, different languages besides English, and Dusty was too tired to look closely enough to even see if they were alphabetically arranged.

Screw it. How did they not expect him to make more of a mess? He pushed books over, figuring he'd find the couch, then work his way outward to clear it off. Dusty had not gotten far when he realized his initial idea was crap. With the books piled, they took up the whole room. When they weren't piled on each other, they couldn't fit. The door was blocked and the path to the other side of the room was gone. What did Godric do anyway, walk on the ceiling?

Annoyed with the whole mess, Dusty pushed more books aside, toppling them over till he found the seat of the couch, hidden under piles of books. When Dusty leaned on it, the cushion gave under his weight and books fell towards him.

"Shit," he muttered, before pushing more books out of the way. What did they expect him to do? He couldn't turn into a mouse, nor could he move fast or have the strength Godric did.

Finally lying down on the now-cleared, too-short couch, Dusty's tiredness overwhelmed his angry thoughts.

When Dusty woke, the basement room was quiet, and the bare light bulb close to the center of the ceiling was still lit. He had no idea what time it was without a clock or windows.

He hadn't seen a clock in the bathroom, and wondered if there was one in the room he hadn't seen, or if Klaus wanted to go eat. Either way, Dusty's things were in the bathroom, and now there were books tumbled all over in every direction.

Now that he was no longer tired, Dusty went back to being annoyed. He had to find a place to live. This was ridiculous. Was this why Klaus suggested it, or Godric said okay?

Getting up, Dusty muttered to himself, "Clean like woman, my ass."

Rather than picking anything up, Dusty plowed through the fallen books towards the bathroom.

He stopped before the bathroom, and turned to look at the other door. It was still cracked open and dark inside the room.

"Hey ..." Dusty started, reaching in to see if there was a switch.

He found the switch immediately, and the growling started at the same time the light went on.

Klaus, as his usual big, scarred, pale dog, was lying at the foot of a twin mattress on the floor. His teeth were bared.

Behind Klaus, Godric was curled up on his side in the back corner. Dusty could see the lower part of his tattooed back, and his pale, bare ass, with his feet tucked against it.

"Um …" was all Dusty said, before Klaus lunged towards the door. Dusty got his arm on the outside, and let it slam shut as Klaus hit it bodily.

Dusty made sure the door was shut, then remembered that Klaus could become human and open it. He shut himself in the bathroom, and locked the door. It was where he was going in the first place, when he wondered if Godric had a clock. His was in the car.

The barking and snarling, audible through two closed doors, stopped. Dusty listened, wondering if that meant Klaus decided to turn back into a human and open the door, or if he realized that Dusty made a mistake opening that door and was lying back down.

It was silent till Dusty heard Godric's calm voice outside the bathroom door. "Dusty, do you need something?"

"I was only checking to see if there was a clock somewhere."

"I do not have one here. It is past noon, yet hours till sunset."

Dusty opened the door, feeling he wasn't being a good guest, even in this hovel, by keeping it closed. Oh, Godric was as naked now as he was asleep. Not meaning to look, Dusty got enough of one before his eyes snapped up to Godric's face to tell he was as boyish below, matching the apparent age of his face.

Godric's eyebrows twitched as he prompted, "Yes, Dusty?"

"Don't you need to sleep during the day?"

"I should."

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't know I don't have a clock."

"Uh, good night or ..." Dusty had no idea what vampires wished each other. To him, good day was an old-fashioned way of saying good-bye, and usually said in a rude tone to end a conversation.

"That's fine, Dusty. Enjoy your day."

Author's Note: that was a German Giant rabbit, not a North American jackrabbit.

Now do you realize why Isabel claimed the Kindle is one of the best inventions ever?

ungeschickt Maultier = clumsy mule


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 15**

Dusty found a place within a day of spending hours on Godric's couch. His abode was not fit for human habitation, even temporarily.

He didn't know why he agreed to it in the first place, rather than staying in his car. Curiosity? Dusty knew Klaus was concerned about him, and Klaus didn't do much for himself. Maybe Klaus was simple. He had an amazing ability, but he wasn't using it to get ahead.

Godric … Godric seemed to accede to what Klaus wanted, and Klaus seemed capable of keeping Dusty from getting into trouble while a vampire rested. The vampire himself seemed sad to Dusty. His home, or lair, was even sadder. What did all this reading gain for him? Knowing more seemed to lead to more questions. He needed more than a movie with Klaus for fun. If he was normal, Dusty would guess a wife, then kids. But who knew with a vampire? Was it even the same, and if it was, would Godric's apparent youth exclude him for that sort of companionship? Is that why he got along so well with Klaus? The vampires at the laundromat all seemed to be there for company. Godric spent more time alone in his office then out with the others, when Dusty was around. Was it the repetition of having company?

Perhaps Dusty should get to work on his own life, making new friends, dating, finding a wife, actually finding a good job so he could afford dating and a wife. Women were expensive. Everything was expensive.

When he thought he found the job, Dusty spoke to Godric, and Godric asked, "You need more money?"

"I don't mean for getting books. Twenty a day's plenty, but there might be days I skip, but then I'll bring you more the next day."

"There are some days you will not bring me books?" Godric asked slowly.

Dusty didn't see what was so hard to understand, so explained more fully, "The library closes earlier, and I won't be out driving around each day for this job."

He hadn't been expecting Godric to look hurt as he clarified, "You prefer this new job over working for me?"

"No, but I need more than twenty dollars a day," Dusty held his hand out, and quickly said, "which is plenty for bringing you books."

"I can pay more."

"No, that would be taking your money."

"You do a good job."

"You pay me too much as it is."

"You can work more and then … a hundred is more than twenty?"

"Yes."

Godric looked like he was in pain, then said, "A hundred … a mon .. no, week?"

"For what?"

"What you do?"

"I make a hundred or a hundred twenty now."

He muttered, "Ich weiß es nicht," before yelling out, „Klaus!"

There was only a brief sound of scratching before Godric was out of his seat and opening the door for the dog, talking down to him, „Was ist hundert?"

Klaus changed and replied, „Was?"

Dusty looked at the portrait of Jesus and his Sacred Heart.

„Dusty ist zwanzig bezahlt pro Tag. Was ist hundert?"

"What maths you need doing, Dusty?" Klaus asked, knowing it was futile to try to get a proper question out of Godric regarding numbers unless he was reading it aloud.

"I don't."

"Was kostet?" Godric asked, frustrated.

"Was ist los?" Klaus asked in return.

Godric made a noise as his response, so Dusty said, "I am taking a better paying job during the day so I will not be able to get Godric books every day, but I will get him more. I only want twenty dollars per delivery, which is what I'm already receiving."

"Nein, you come every day when library open," Klaus replied.

"No, I'm telling Godric, and you, that I won't be able to go to the library every day."

"No, you not do that, you go library. What cost be …nein, is?"

"I will not take more than twenty dollars for bringing a stack of books."

"Zahlen mehr," Godric insisted.

"What pay you make at other job?" Klaus asked.

"None of your business."

"How are we to pay you more if you will not say."

"You can't pay me more."

Now Klaus looked confused, along with Godric, then said, "American money ist …" while waving his hand.

"... plentiful?" Godric suggested.

"Ja, much of it Godric have. He pay for you to fetch books."

Dusty growled with his own frustration. He knew Godric wasn't stupid, but why did he involve Klaus, who repeated what he said, or probably did since they were speaking half in German, and Dusty didn't want to learn German.

"Listen," he said, starting slowly. "I will still get your books but not every day the library is open. I need a real job because I can't work forever getting a vampire every book at the Dallas public library."

"You can't," Klaus said, looking at him strange, "because one day you die."

Godric gave Klaus a smack on the arm, and complained, "Nicht erinnern Sterblichen ihrer Sterblichkeit."

„Ich spreche, weil ich kein Hund bin."

This is exactly what Dusty wanted to avoid. He did not want to join these two and argue about nonsense every night. He wanted a life, outside of whatever was happening in the back of a laundromat, and to do that, he needed a job to afford it. A somewhat respectable job. Women usually got around to asking what a fellow did, and they used their wiles to find out how much a man made, calculated the size of the house, the shininess of the appliances, and then made a decision.

Pointing at Dusty, Godric stated, "You do maths better than Klaus. That now your job with the library books. Tell me how much."

"No."

"Yes, you look at numbers and write things for me. I'll pay more money for that."

"I don't do that."

"Now you do."

"I didn't go to school for that."

"You learn. Klaus show you."

This was getting crazier by the minute. Godric was giving him Klaus' job, and he trusted, maybe trust was the wrong word since Klaus was loyal, but giving Klaus responsibilities, other than growling at customers was nuts.

Negotiating pay was even more lunatic because Godric had the number one hundred in his head so if Dusty already made that in one week, he now got a hundred dollars a day.

It didn't take long for Dusty to find out he had been bamboozled. Klaus didn't handle jack shit. He simply muttered in German, waved his hand at a piece of paper, and would sometimes put a big 'G' on something followed by a scrawl and say Godric signed it, after the vampire shoved a pen in his hand.

There was a very 'human' side to it all, and Godric didn't want to deal with it. Isabel handled vampire business for him, and Rex was somehow Godric's muscle, even though Godric was supposed to be stronger.

It wasn't as bad as it could be. Godric had money people who counted, and lawyers who'd look over papers. As far as Dusty could tell, the root of the problems were Godric did not want complications so he'd simply say something like 'buy it', then ask later 'what's this? Sell it.' He didn't do it often because most of the time he'd shake his head and wave his hand at piles of paper.

As far as Dusty could tell, Godric did not own the Dallas public library or the Cowboys. Anything else was fair game, and Stan was quick to present an idea to Dusty, who then helped him get Godric to finance his plan to move from just a liquor store to grow into a large distributor. Dusty didn't see a problem with that because Stan was pushing into a business that Dusty was pretty sure was government-sanctioned and mafia-run. Stan did well because he wasn't as big a crook as they were.

It didn't mean Dusty was excused from getting library books. He still did that.

Dusty entered the laundromat through the front door, as he usually did during the day with library books for Godric.

There was no one at the counter. Dusty couldn't remember that ever happening before. Maybe Mary was in the ladies' room. He leaned over to reach for the latch and noticed her knitting was on the floor.

He put the books on the counter, and slowly opened the divider between the customer and employee areas.

Her pocketbook was still on the shelf beneath the counter. Dusty opened the drawer where the change was kept, and the $20 bills for books and Klaus. It looked like no one robbed the place. Where was Klaus? He didn't think Klaus would follow Mary into the ladies' room, especially since she knew what Klaus was.

There was nothing that indicated real trouble. No blood, things knocked about, or missing money. Klaus wouldn't see something happening and slink off with his tail between his legs, unless he went to Godric. That could lead whoever or whatever to where Godric slept. No, Klaus wouldn't do that either.

Dusty could hear some of the machines running so went and looked. The floors were clean, dry, and someone had a load of wash going, and two of the dryers were in use. One was tumbling dark, the other whites.

His eyes did look at the 'employees only' door before Dusty decided to check more out here first. He had never seen Mary or Lee on the other side of that door.

He checked the men's room first. It was empty.

Dusty knocked loudly on the ladies' room door before opening it. It was also empty. He went all the way in because they had a bigger room with more obstructions. Not that Dusty expected ladies to have anything less.

Reassured that there was nothing amiss out here, Dusty was already thinking ahead to looking in the back when he reopened the ladies' room door to leave it, when he was hit in the chest with something heavy. He hadn't gotten a chance to get a look at it before he was struck.

For a brief moment, Dusty thought it was Klaus from the way it felt. The color was wrong, and this large, dirty grey wolf smelled way worse than Klaus. He guessed it was also bigger. Dusty knew the difference between dogs, wolves and coyotes, and this was a big ass wolf. He couldn't say if it was stronger than Klaus since he never tried to get a hold of Klaus after that first time.

A whiny voice, male, asked, "What are you doin' in the girls' lavatory?"

Since the first question was not about the wolf in the laundromat, Dusty assumed these two were together, and answered, "I needed change."

Klaus had mentioned werewolves. Could this be one? The human looking man, better not to make assumptions, was dressed in a suit, but needed a haircut and a shave. He was also wearing loafers that were badly scuffed, rather than boots.

"Bring him to the back."

The wolf, which was a big bastard as far as wolves ever went, even in Texas, grabbed hold of Dusty's shirt in its teeth, shifted off him and started dragging.

"Hey," Dusty protested, sliding on the linoleum.

"I'm gonna lock the door. This place is too busy."

The wolf got Dusty to the counter while Dusty scrambled to catch hold of anything to stop or slow his progress to the back. He had a bad feeling about what he'd see back there.

"Where these books come from? They yours?"

When Dusty didn't answer, believing it was a stupid question since he was the only one here, the bastard dropped the biggest one on his face.

"Yeah, I read while I do my wash."

From the way the guy was holding the next book, Dusty wasn't entirely sure he could read, but then realized it a was a book on Bauhaus. No one was fooling anyone by believing there was anyone here that was interested in some sort of German art or architecture or whatever the hell it was. Dusty knew enough to find the books. He didn't have to read them or take a test on them.

"Where's your laundry?"

"In the washer."

"Thought you needed change."

"I need more for the dryer."

"You usually read eight books while doing a load of wash?"

"I get bored easy."

"Something's wrong with this guy," he said. Dusty knew he was speaking to the wolf. There was no reason to say that to him.

The wolf gave him a furious shake in response. This wasn't good. He tried to resist but got treated like a stunned rabbit.

Actually, Dusty considered he probably seemed suspicious as soon as he was jumped by a huge wolf in a Laundromat and didn't scream, faint or crap his pants.

The man in the suit opened the hinged part of the counter, grabbed the books, and opened the door to the back room.

Dusty grabbed the side of the counter, and got pulled so hard it felt like his shoulder was dislocated. He didn't try to repeat it with the door frame because he now hurt like a son of a bitch.

He hoped the vampires made them pay when he saw what they did to Mary. She was lying on the floor with her head twisted around backwards. He guessed these were the two other dead people that had been doing wash.

Looking around, Dusty saw more strangers, two more wolves, and Klaus, as a dog, in a cage. He was lying forlornly on the floor of it. His fur had a dark area of blood. His white-blue eyes met Dusty's, and Dusty swore that Klaus was trying to signal with eyebrow twitches. He hadn't a clue what Klaus was trying to communicate.

"Kill him?" someone asked.

"We need some bait. Remember? You killed grandma too soon."

"She was old and wouldn't shut up."

"Her dog's doesn't mean anything to a vampire."

"That's one hell of an ugly dog too."

Dusty didn't think much of their looks either, on Klaus' behalf.

"Just shut up. Get that one tied to a chair, and one of you hobble him good. Don't want him running for help."

"Crawling'll be more like it."

"Gag him, and cover his eyes so he can't indicate where we're hiding."

Dusty was sure Godric had to know something was wrong with Klaus. That wasn't going to help him because one of the men sliced along the back of his leg, near his ankle.

"Make sure he's bleeding good, but not enough to die first."

Dusty tried to commit those words to memory. He doubted Godric would be vicious, but Stan had it in him.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 16**

Dusty was securely tied to a chair, his shoulder throbbing, his hacked up leg now numb, and the only noise besides himself was Klaus breathing noisily. He may not be breathing any louder than he normally did as a dog, but when everything's real quiet, it sure sounded loud.

He couldn't tell what time it was, or even remember what time he came in. It had been close to four? When did the sun set? What would Godric do? What did these people want with Godric?

Considering they put Klaus in a cage, what did they know about Godric or Klaus? If Klaus changed, couldn't he let himself out? Who brings a cage to pick a fight with a vampire, unless they plan to lock something in it?

Dusty was feeling tired. Was it blood loss? Was this going to kill him? Hating werewolves, like Klaus seemed like a damn good idea because Dusty hadn't been doing anything to deserve getting treated like this. Neither had Mary, nor a couple people who stopped in to do their wash.

Loudly, the back door opened and slammed shut. Rex stopped being a blur to stare at him.

"What …?" is all he got to say, before another blur did something that got him to look down at his chest, and suffer the true death.

It was the guy with the scuffed loafers, who called out loudly, "I just made fifty thousand."

"No, you didn't, fool," a woman answered, was somewhere behind Dusty, still blindfolded. "That was not Godric, and you won't be able to kill a thousand year old vampire that easily."

Did Godric say he was a thousand years old? Dusty wondered. It was hard to remember when he had more important things on his mind. Why kill Godric? He hoped Godric wasn't killed because if something happened to Godric, what was going to happen to him?

Blood loss. That had to be it, Dusty thought snapping out of some crazy delusion that if Godric was gone, Klaus would move in with him, and he'd never have a date again.

They went back to hiding and being quiet, but they left the red sludge that used to be Rex as a puddle on the floor. Would Godric recognize that as trouble, besides seeing Dusty tied to a chair, Klaus in a cage, and whatever he was feeling from Klaus. They never explained that. Klaus was firm on he was different than a vampire, nothing like Godric, but how did Godric feel things from Klaus? Godric had said he felt … what? When Dusty got Klaus agitated, he guessed. Klaus had to be more than that now.

He felt something touch his good leg less than a moment before he could see. Godric was standing close to him and bent to the side to look at his injury.

"Run," Dusty hissed. Klaus barked, but it wasn't his normal bark. It was a canine yodel. Godric looked back up at his face, before shifting to catch something in his hand.

As far as Dusty could tell, it would have hit him, not Godric, and he heard it dropped quickly after Dusty heard a hissing sound. Something smelled now. That was followed by Godric bodily nudging against him, knocking Dusty in his chair onto his back, while that whiny punk with the scuffed shoes clung to Godric like a god-damned monkey, except he was taller than Godric, and neither of them was moving like a normal person or monkey would. They were fast, very flexible, and as far as Dusty could tell, Godric was staying on top of him on purpose.

Godric calmly asked, "Why are you doing this?" during their scuffle.

Dusty didn't hear an answer to the question from the man. He heard Klaus' call change to a deep-throated growl, even louder than he made as a dog. Dusty didn't want to take his eyes off the fight on top of him, especially since the attacker, nicked his arm with something that Godric pulled out. When Godric touched it, his movement slowed, and his hand steamed from a wound that had opened.

Klaus was no longer a dog. Dusty recognized he was some sort of bear, which was working on the cage as he made a lot of noise. Distracted by Klaus, Dusty missed what happened above him. A metal net had been dropped on the fighting, and Godric fell on him then twisted to get a grip on the other man's head. There was a drawn-out scream from the man that hoped to earn fifty thousand dollars, before there was a crack that ended it. He became a dead weight on top of Dusty when Godric let go of him. Besides that, there had been a sizzling sound that now only had Klaus competing with it. Godric was burning wherever the metal touched his skin. Dusty couldn't move or see well, but heard Klaus' tone change and heard a scrambling of claws on the concrete floor. Then his hand was no longer attached to the chair, and Godric's lips were against his ear saying, "Cut yourself free." Dusty felt the handle being pressed into his free hand, but the skin of Godric's hand touching his was flaked and flayed with burns. Godric rolled the three of them over so Dusty and his chair was now on top of the pile. The vampire curled up against him, muttering, "Silver."

The wolf from earlier was back, and Dusty was distracted as he tried to saw the rope keeping him bound, already thinking ahead that he had to get this metal mesh off of Godric. He needn't have worried, because Klaus was bigger, and apparently more vicious since he swatted at the snapping teeth with a huge paw and slammed the wolf's face to the floor before biting, and ripping its throat out.

Dusty hadn't expected the wolf to turn back into a person. A dead person with the front and one side of his neck gone, along with part of his face.

Godric jostled him as he broke the legs of the chair that he was not secured to. More people were in the room now, and Klaus had backed his ursine ass close to Dusty's head. Dusty felt a pull as Klaus tried to remove the metal off them, but he wasn't turning to look at what he was doing. He also guessed the weight of the broken-necked man beneath them was weighting it down too.

"Such an ugly animal," a woman crooned.

Dusty thought it was the woman who called the whiny mercenary a fool earlier.

"Leave him alone, Lavidia," Godric said clearly. "Neither of these two are involved with your complaint with me."

He concentrated on breaking links in the net to help Klaus and Dusty. It was painful, but their lives were worth it.

"A thousand years old, and you don't understand me? I will slaughter all your sheep, Godric."

"The king will not allow this. He will respond."

"Once you meet the true death, I am oldest vampire in his kingdom. He needs me. It's a pity you are a hundred or so years older. I've asked about you. You weren't seen until the mid Dark Ages, and in the company of the Viking. The tattoos on your arms are Germanic, along with your name."

Godric knew there was some mistakes in her statement. This was not his original name, and his interim nickname of Death was not appropriate. He was no longer that vampire. Additionally, he could not translate his age into a better number. Godric knew that he was over one thousand years old because the year printed on things began with a '1'. When it began with a '2', he's be over two thousand. Counting the nights, weeks, and years was meaningless, unless a vampire wanted to gauge who should be stronger. Though stronger did not necessarily mean victory.

"Are you watching, Godric?"

"Do not harm the shifter or this human."

"You are not in a position to make threats."

Dusty felt the tightness of the net loosen against his left arm suddenly, with matching sizzle and the smell of something burning. It wasn't like meat cooking, but Dusty was pretty sure Godric and other vampires were so old that they didn't smell the same as people, or other animals any more.

The woman struck fast. Klaus' weight thumped to the floor still as a bear before he changed back to the scarred, pale man. Godric screamed and for a brief moment, Dusty was in extreme pain from the loudness of it, then passed out.

***** Tru Blood *** **

At first, Dusty thought he had the mother of all hangovers. His head hurt so much. What was also confusing was Stan was looking into his face. He didn't go drinking with Stan.

He couldn't understand what Stan said at first. His bearded lips moved, but the sound Dusty expected didn't happen. It was a low murmur, compared to that alarm clock or whatever was making that racket.

Dusty tried to move, saying, "What'd you say, Stan? I didn't hear you."

Stan spoke up, but Dusty still heard it at a reduced volume, "I asked if you could hear me. You got blood on your ears."

"Oh …oh, Godric …" Dusty saw Godric in the middle of the room, on the floor, holding Klaus and crying like a girl. His voice was shrill and the length of his wailing pitched his voice higher than his normal speaking tone. Tears of blood, and they were dripping onto Klaus.

The rest of the room was covered in blood and bits of flesh.

Mary and the other customers were intact, besides Klaus, the werewolf, and the whiney man who got his neck snapped early by Godric. Everyone else looked like they had been put through a machine. All that was left was bloody jelly.

"It's still early enough that I can take you to a hospital," Stan said, quietly to Dusty's ears. He was hurt, but what about what was going to happen here?

Stan hauled him up, and Dusty asked, "What about …?"

The vampires that were here were ignoring Godric. Was that what he was expected to do too?

"You could get better without our help," Stan said, steering Dusty to the door, and around the puddle that used to be Rex.

"What?"

Stan waited till they were in his car, before he replied, "Our blood could heal you, but there's drawbacks."

"You'll have a nervous breakdown if something happens to me?"

"No, I would not. Godric and Klaus were too close, although I think Godric only gave Klaus his blood once. Godric is old, and he's deviating from what is expected from us."

"The woman that tried to kill him said he was over a thousand years old."

"I think he's older. Godric remembers things that are much older. I've heard him speak of Rome during the Empire, Hannibal and Alexander the Great. Perhaps he's lying, because vampires do that. The older he is, the stronger he is. We all know he's faster and stronger than us so there is some truth to it, but he does not play the same games other vampires do when they're bored. He doesn't want us killing each other, stealing from each other, or just being a bunch of pains in the ass."

"You fight with Isabel."

"We've never laid a finger on each other, or endangered the other's life, humans, resting places, or businesses. We exchange words, and that's because she's got her head so far up Godric's ass … actually, she doesn't because she can't get a hold of anyone to talk some sense into Godric. She's making transcontinental calls to her old buddies in Europe to track down Godric's Eric."

"From that package, I think he lives in …oh, which one was it …Sweden … Norway… um, Denmark?"

"He could be anywhere. I think Isabel's new plan of finding the vampire Eric made to track him down is a bone-headed move."

"Why?"

"Nothing comes between a vampire and his maker, and that would include your maker's maker. Godric's not in any danger, so whoever Eric's child is would be wise, after considering the possibilities, to pass along the message to Eric that he should call Godric. But … by the time that message gets to the right ears, Godric will be done with all this crying over his dog, so Isabel's little plan to make him feel better will be for nothing."

"You really don't like her?"

"I'm from a time and place where her kind were considered ignorant sheep. And Isabel still is."

"I think she's intelligent."

"She's trying to mother Godric. He's a vampire. He doesn't need someone to hold his hand. She can be okay for normal things, but when it comes to religion, watch out. She's old-time Spanish Catholic, as in the Inquisition. Until Vatican 2, she thought the pope had a fuckin' hotline to God. What sane person would think the most corrupt political position would be able to interpret the Bible better than you or I?"

Dusty didn't know what brought out this sudden talk about religion, because really, did real men ever speak about religion? Go to church when you could, get your kids baptized and making communion, and try to watch your mouth before you go blurting out Jesus Christ for every little thing.

"You know what, Stan … I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not a Catholic."

"Good. It's rife with hypocrisy."

"So you're blood would heal me, and you wouldn't fall to pieces if I died?"

"My blood would heal you, but I think you'd end up committing suicide within a month. You're not weak, but there's things that are better left unknown."

"Secret vampire stuff?"

"Not really, except if you ever regained your sanity, you'd realize how insidious it is. I'd have to turn you down too, because I like the women."

"Huh?"

"You're not my type, Dusty. After a while, some of us vampires will develop a preference for their own gender, but not me. We'll see what your doctors can fix before offering you any. And you're going to have to turn down Godric, if he does offer."

"Why?"

"It would be best to kill you quick before he gets attached to you. Seeing this, I now know for certain that the bond with a shifter must have been unnatural, yet Godric cannot obtain another pet so soon." Stan also believed there was something fundamentally wrong with Godric. Isabel was covering it up, but he'd figure out what it was eventually.

"Klaus was not a pet."

"No, he wasn't. If they didn't kill the dog, was Godric willing to negotiate with them?"

"Maybe. I think Godric wanted to get Klaus and I out of the way, but Mary and other people were already dead, besides Rex."

"Yeah, poor Rex," Stan mocked. He was happy Rex was out of the way.

"Here we are," Stan said, pulling up in front of the emergency room entrance.

"You're not coming in?"

"Not if I don't have to. The lighting's too bright. They'll think I'm sick. Then I'd have to glamour people, and not get caught. It's a hassle."

What Dusty hadn't realized was that Stan also chickened out so he'd have to explain how he got hurt. Yeah … well, saying he blacked out, woke up, and didn't remember shit didn't get him too far, but at least he got admitted to the hospital to get patched up. Nurses were sure of one thing, men were stupid and did stupid things, so Dusty didn't have to try too hard.

Food was crap. Nothing to drink, but some good pills, which had him thinking he saw Godric in the dark corner of his room, till he looked right at him, and then Godric was on top of him, looking down at him.

"Whoa."

"Are you dreaming?" Godric asked lowly. 

"What?" Dusty asked, not hearing him.

"Isn't 'whoa' what is said to horses?"

"Speak up."

"Oh, they could hear me."

"Do that thing to make 'em think you're not here."

Godric nodded, then said, "Stan said you were not dying. You are still injured."

"True."

"You will heal here?"

"Not all the way."

"What will not heal?"

"I don't think where they cut my leg's going to get completely better. My shoulder will, and my hearing may not go back to the way it was."

Dusty shivered as Godric's cold fingers touched his face. At times, he looked so much like a person.

"If you find the injuries do not heal for you, I can fix them."

Thinking of the way Godric was bawling his bloody eyes out over Klaus, and Stan's hint that his blood would drive Dusty crazy, besides his threat to kill Dusty if he accepted, he said, "I can wait and see."

Nodding, Godric agreed, "That is wise. My blood is strong, and only someone that has control of his desires would find it beneficial."

What Godric said did not make sense to Dusty. He didn't want to think ill about Klaus, but he had been incredibly impulsive. He didn't hate Klaus, and seeing the hurt his death brought Godric was sobering, but Klaus was a dangerous, unbalanced individual who had the ability to kill, and Dusty was sure he had done it more than the one time he saw.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 17**

During his times alone at the hospital, which was days, Dusty considered at the rate he was using up the working parts of his body, he'd be up shit's creek soon enough. His head, his hearing, being able to run, all gone. Maybe Godric's offer to heal him was worth taking, if he could be sure Stan wasn't joking around.

Hospitals were boring, the food crap, and there was no liquor, even when Stan dropped by in the middle of the night. It was creepy to open his eyes and see one of them lurking near his bed, even beautiful Isabel.

Dusty thought he had himself under control when Godric looked in his ears, by putting his face close, and looking at his wounded leg, but then the vampire said, "I can hear your heart beat. Is that fright?"

"Worry," Dusty replied.

"I know I am frightening."

"I don't think you'd intentional hurt me."

"I have no reason to do that," Godric replied, "since I no longer find enjoyment in the pain of others."

"Since when?" Dusty asked, thinking that was an odd thing for Godric to say. He didn't like raised voices, so why would he hurt someone so they'd scream?

"Oh … I do not do good math, but it has been a long time," Godric answered. Eric had not understood the pain and killing for fun, and had asked Godric to explain, and then Godric realized there was no explanation. He had no answer for why he hurt and killed anyone, except that he could. His cruelty had evolved from killing everything to killing many, and sparing a few terrified witnesses. He had tried that with children, but then they couldn't always feed themselves, especially in winter, so Godric would either watch them die slowly, or need to bring them dead animals, which became boring.

He changed the subject back to why he was here, "Your leg is still healing. How long will this take?"

"Don't worry about it," Dusty replied, not liking Godric's firm, cool fingers sliding beneath part of the bandage.

"You would not have been hurt, if it wasn't for me."

"I wouldn't have been working for you if I wasn't already hurt."

"What hurt?"

"My head."

"Yes, but that's not why you worked for me. Is it?"

"It's not like I'm gonna grow up to be a cowboy any more."

"You want to own cows?"

"Haven't you seen any movies? Work outdoors, ride horses, take care of a ranch, that usually has steer, not dairy cows."

Godric paused, then asked, "What do you want? The horse and steer?"

"No, I can't do that now."

"Why?"

"You don't stay hurt, do you?"

"When I was human, I spent my life in pain. Becoming vampire does not correct something that has healed improperly before, only a fresh injury, usually the mortal wound that is part of making one of us."

"I don't understand."

"I know a vampire who had sifilide…"

"What?"

"The disease that makes flesh rot away."

"Leprosy?"

"Perhaps, I did not speak English much then. It is new to me."

"He was made vampire, yet it did not restore his missing flesh. He has vampire aspects, but is noticeably wrong. Worse than I when I do not drink blood."

"You need another vampire to make the decision to change you into a vampire?"

"That would be the correct way."

"So why would someone make a leper a vampire?"

Godric shrugged, and said, "Perhaps to see what happened. I would not allow that here."

"Allow?"

"I am particular about what occurs in my domain. If there is a new vampire, even visiting my area, I must be notified. If there is a request to make a new vampire, I am likely to deny it."

"Why?"

"New vampires are hungry, selfish and impulsive. If the vampire that makes them does not watch over them, it could result in something horrible."

In Godric's case, he was. In Eric's case, Eric entertained Godric so much that Godric did not feel the need to kill everything.

"So I don't need to worry about joining the poker game permanently?"

"No, you don't. You talked about marrying to Klaus."

"I did," Dusty replied, not sure what the two of them talked about regarding him, nor how much Godric would allow him to speak of Klaus, "but I don't have anything in the works at the moment."

"You cannot have close association with humans as a vampire, in the same way. There can be no children between vampire and human. Some vampires have gone to elaborate lengths to integrate themselves among you, but I am not diligent enough, nor do I have the aptitude to keep up the pretense."

"So other than me," Dusty said, leaving Klaus out on purpose, "you don't talk to anyone?"

"I have nothing to say."

"There must be others that know what you are."

"Yes, there have been. The novelty wears off, and then they despise me." Godric looked away, recalling how women would turn on him, after he gave them gifts and pleased them sexually, saying, "Klaus never wanted anything from me. That is unusual." The only being that wanted him for him was Eric, and he was coming. Godric did not want him here. The argument they had regarding the werewolves was still fresh in his mind, even though they had it years ago. They needed to wait and be patient, not torture every were and shifter in central Europe for information. Their quarry had fled, and with Germany losing, he needed to flee far.

"I don't talk to you a lot, but maybe you can be more like Stan. He talks about normal things, before I knew what you all were."

"Stan? He … has he threatened you in some way, Dusty?"

"No."

"No? Stan lives here, yet I don't know why."

"Stan loves Texas. Who wouldn't?"

Godric laughed, "But the promise of the frontier justice is not present any more. The trappings are still here, but everything is civilized. Stan is not civilized."

"He is. He just has a sense of humor 'bout him that not everyone gets."

"Perhaps," Godric admitted. He knew there was tension between Isabel, since she was a Spanish Catholic woman, and Stan, as an Lutheran from the time of the Protestant reformation. They made it clear they would never agree on anything, even when their concerns were not religion.

Dusty figured this was not a time to promote Godric's need for levity. He did not know what to say to a lonely, very old, vampire boy who lost his best friend.

"Other vampires will be in the city. I may not have a chance to visit you for nights to come."

"That's fine," Dusty replied. He liked Godric and those that he played poker with, and Isabel, but he didn't want to meet others. That weirdo from San Antonio got him thinking that vampires weren't as well-heeled elsewhere.

Isabel did visit a week later, at Dusty's apartment. He did remember to invite her in.

"You are looking better, Dusty, but what is that in your ear?"

"It helps me hear. Can't watch T.V. without blasting it, without it."

"Oh, that is very clever. Is it related in some way to the miraculous way telephones work?"

"I don't think so."

"Quite nice to have that."

"I'm not growing my hair out though."

"No, I like your hair the way it is. I can see it, yet it's not as large as the devices used to be. Earlier this century, I remember it had a large battery to power them. Prior to that, it was a sort of funnel, without any power source."

Isabel liked his hair?

Since Dusty was preening over her compliment, Isabel continued, "Godric needs you to sign some papers."

"What kind of papers?"

"He said you were to keep resting, so I'm filling in and carrying them around. It is no trouble, I wish you a speedy recovery also."

Dusty was almost bamboozled by Isabel's kind words until she put a wordy document in front of him and held out a pen.

"What's this?"

"Godric doesn't need this so he wants you to have it."

"What is it?"

"Some property. It's part of a larger development, and he was thinking he liked this location, but prefers another because too many trees were knocked down here, and it will take years for them to regrow."

"Godric can afford his own forest."

"That might look odd to move a forest of trees."

"This is Texas. Crazy oil-rich coots have done odder."

"Godric's too shy for that. Sign."

"What is this? He's hiding land?"

"No, it's yours now. This paper here, look over. He wants a one-floor home built for you."

"Why?"

"He's afraid your leg won't heal completely."

"Godric doesn't need to have a house built for me."

"It'll be convenient for work. He'll live nearby, sometimes. It's still being discussed."

"What's going on?"

"Not much. Vampires being vampires. We cannot enter your house, unless you invite us, but you know that."

"Yeah."

"This location is not within sight of the other locations Godric liked. Not all the land was deemed safe enough to build a subterranean level."

"What do you mean?"

"It's safest for us underground, with no windows, behind a thick door. Crawl spaces under a home can also work, but I find them dirty."

Dusty nodded unconsciously, understanding that Isabel wouldn't want to be in a crawlspace. He had seen some nice, finished basements. Isabel would want someplace as tasteful as her sense of style undoubtedly.

"So you would be doing Godric a favor taking this off his hands?"

"But how much does he want for it?"

"Godric wants no money. As you said, he has plenty."

"How is this related to your vampire thing?"

"It's barely related. Godric needs to move his main resting place, which you have seen."

"His library?"

"Not the books, just him. I will not live like that."

"He's going to live with you?"

"Not if he makes a mess. Godric's sadness over Klaus is not abating, and Eric has come and seen where Godric rests and is furious. So I run errands to stay out of his way. Godric is telling him to leave him be, and go."

"Eric with the sheep?"

"Yes, but he did not bring any, so other than Godric, he is alone here."

"Isn't he one of you?"

"He is aggressively rude, and he barely speaks English or Spanish."

Dusty should have suspected there was a reason why Isabel got so chatty with him. This Eric was annoying her. Stan annoyed her too, but Stan was Dusty's friend, so she couldn't whine about him to Dusty. Eric was an outsider, and now that he was here, even Godric wanted him to go. At least he was enough of a friend to Godric to try to get him to move out of that cement hole filled with books. Dusty knew Godric could afford way better.

With a sigh, Dusty signed Isabel's paperwork. He'd think of something later, when he got around to seeing Godric. Actually, after seeing where Godric lived, it might not be much of a house, or even a piece of land. Without trees, it could be a muddy, washed out gully.

It didn't turn out to be a washed-out gully, and having a one floor ranch-style house was helpful since climbing stairs were a killer now. There was enough land to allow the floor plan to be a decadent sprawl. It was too big for Dusty, yet he may never want to have a kitchen without a dishwasher again.

When he finally did see Godric he joked that he hardly had reason to see him now that he had a house with a washer and dryer. Since the vampire laughed, Dusty figured that even though every vampire that met this unpleasant Eric didn't like him, he seemed to do something for Godric, because now he was talking about books, movies and giving Dusty work again.

Eventually, Eric left, with Dusty never having the displeasure of meeting him. He figured he wouldn't have liked him anyway since he was a foreigner, and he didn't even get along with Stan.

Stan got positively giddy over some sort of promotion among the vampires, and he was going to live with Godric and Isabel in his new house. Stan called it a nest. He ignored Dusty's words regarding what a horrifically bad idea it was for Stan to live near Isabel. Godric was full of patience and understanding, yet Dusty could not conceive of him having the fortitude of a saint.

To further prove how insane vampires were, instead of Stan admitting Dusty was right, he gave him a new Cadillac, prior to complaining about how Isabel was driving him nuts.

Since Dusty had been right, he enjoyed whenever Isabel or Stan decided to 'rest elsewhere' because the tension dropped to a low buzz in their house, since Godric wanted Dusty to see him in person, either at the house or laundromat. Dusty didn't like the laundromat now, so he went to the house.

Their pretend human life at the large, suburban home was ridiculous, if anyone really knew them, and the upstairs was decorated so that there was a parent bedroom and one for their teenage son. Stan and Isabel were Godric's parents, whenever there was a call to be human. They needed to avoid that as much as possible since Godric's continued youth would eventually expose them.

However, on this street, along with Dusty's, no one cared who lived in the house next door or across the street as long as they kept their lawn nice, didn't leave rusted out wrecks parked on the street on in the driveway, and even Dusty raised an eyebrow over someone storing a giant boat on a towing trailer for over a year. They could have pulled it around to the back of the house, at least.

Dusty had to watch Godric, and made sure he knew not to talk about numbers unless Isabel, Stan or he were around to help with the zeros at the end. He knew Godric wasn't stupid. He simply didn't care. Dusty suspected it was part of Godric's personal philosophy to disdain money as something unimportant.

It's not that Dusty expected a bigger or second house from Godric, or that he wouldn't be paid. Godric had money coming in from all over, including countries he never heard of in Europe.

Besides vampires being strange and unusual, throwing money, a house and a car at him, women were also inexplicable. Dusty was suddenly getting offers of meals and assistance everywhere from women he didn't know, except when he went to the barber's.

They were especially aggressive at the grocery store, with at least one cart collision a month. Dusty was suspecting there was a conspiracy, especially since they seemed most prone to crash into him while he was standing still, picking out frozen Swanson dinners because every night could not be Salisbury Steak night.

Of course there was a catch to letting himself get fed a home-cooked meal. They expected conversation, and were keenly interested in their questions being answered in mind-numbing detail.

When his answers didn't come up to scratch, Dusty began to think that vampires were right, and making up histories were the way to go. Disabled veteran got positive responses, but working odd jobs since then didn't, even if he did have a Cadillac Fleetwood and a new three bedroom house with two bathrooms and attached garage.

In reality, none of them were for Dusty. He didn't like aggressive women. A date with a cute lady bagging groceries worked out just fine. He asked her out, picked her up, chose the restaurant, paid the bill, and she was willing to talk about herself more than ask him what kind of linoleum he preferred.

Marge wasn't beautiful like Isabel, yet she had a good sense of humor, and didn't whine. That was important, Dusty didn't want to listen to bellyaching, especially since Stan was turning into a major jellyfish when he wasn't 'resting elsewhere'.

Dusty thought it was simple. Stan didn't like Isabel, didn't agree with Godric when he took her side, so he should just move. He could see Godric and other vampires elsewhere without getting his boxers wedged up his backside.

Dates with Marge were easy. She didn't ask to go anywhere fancy, and movies and steak dinners were fine with him. Marge didn't even suggest he look for new work when he said he worked mostly nights.

Not finding anything wrong with her, Dusty thought things were getting serious. He believed Marge agreed because things went pretty far as their dates progressed.

Rather than mentioning it after the fact, he confessed to Godric that he was thinking of marrying. The vampire nodded in response. Not sure if Godric realized that Dusty had already found someone, he explained it further, and Godric replied he understood.

Dusty thought the lack of response was based in resentment, but then received excessive gifts when he went through with the deed.

He was never going to understand them, and could only explain their generosity by considering that they did not have many humans who knew about them.

Over the years, they still had their strange sense of humor. Dusty broke the profanity rule when Godric adopted a clueless look that turned to odd fascination when Stan decided to educate the older vampire on the cause of Dusty's wife's pregnancy. It was entirely fictional, involving birds, bees and storks.

Dusty and Marge had a girl, and a lot of presents delivered.

After a couple weeks, Dusty was back at work, at Godric's house, sitting at a table next to him with papers covered in numbers, and asked, "Did you want to see her?"

"Who?"

"Melanie."

"Who?"

"My daughter."

"The baby?"

"Yes," Dusty replied, getting annoyed.

"No, I shouldn't. Do not let any of us into your home, unless there is an emergency."

"Why?"

"I think I can be trusted, yet I am still frightening. It's best not to introduce us into your home or family. Keep that safe."

"You just said you can be trusted."

"Why would you believe me? Vampires are not to be trusted."

"But you trust me?" Dusty asked.

"I pay you, and I also know another vampire cannot trick you into acting on their behalf. You'd have to want to do things for them. Another reason to keep your child away."

"So some big thug like Stan would hold Melanie hostage and kill her?"

"Stan … I don't think so. He does not hurt small children. Your wife would be more likely. Isabel would also choose Marge, if she was available too. I would probably drain the infant while the mother watched."

"Godric, why do you say such things?"

"Because I can do them, and if I felt like doing it, I know nothing could stop me."

"Then why don't you?"

"It's a lie that baby blood tastes sweeter because it's steeped in innocence. The appeal would be the reaction of others while I did it. I am a monster."

"You are in a terrible mood tonight," Dusty retorted. "Why couldn't you just say no, and leave it at that?"

"No."

Dusty looked at him, and sighed. His boss was a moody bastard at times. He should have asked before showing him any statements. Numbers and asking him to pay attention made him cross.

Author's Note: When Godric said sifilide, he meant syphilis, not leprosy, but does not know enough English/medical terms to know Dusty's misinterpreted it.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 18**

Dusty became better about separating work and family. The vampires would give presents for something major, but after Melanie's baptism, Dusty thought about what Godric said about vampires, and figured they could wait till she made her communion. Although Marge was all for it, Dusty wasn't a big believer in first birthday bashes, since Melanie preferred the gift wrap and bows, rather than what was in the box.

Marge and he had already set up a trust fund, in case something happened to both of them, and a separate college account, in case that's what Melanie ended up doing. If not, they could afford a huge wedding. Marge was more in the college column because neither of them went.

Dusty resented that Marge, herself a housewife, said that having to depend on a man was a form of servitude. That was also what a job was, a form of servitude, and Dusty was paid to see Godric smile at piles of books, from the library because of Isabel, and also to frown at calculators like he plopped one of Mel's old, used diapers on the table.

Melanie didn't have to worry, and neither did Marge. Dusty already had lots of life insurance. He didn't plan on dying, but if he ended up tied to a chair again during a vampire fight, he knew it was a likely outcome.

What he hadn't expected was anything to happen to Marge. If he was dead, and that was likely, since men didn't live as long as women anyway, that there'd be plenty of money, no mortgage on the house, and enough insurance that she'd never have to go back to bagging groceries.

So it was a shock to be sitting in his chair one night, watching the news with the captions on, to see a blur of white out of the corner of his eye, and see Godric outside his living room window.

With a grunt, Dusty got out of his chair, and went to the front door, and opened it.

He asked, "What's wrong?"

"Your wife is sick."

"No, she isn't."

"Is there another woman who you eat dinner with?"

"Huh?"

"I've watched you eat with your wife and daughter. When your wife came outside with the rubbish, I smelled she is sick."

"What kind of sick?" Dusty asked, wondering why Godric was watching them through the window, and how often. Was he never going to say anything, if he wasn't convinced something was wrong with Marge? There was also a moment of macho resentment, because Dusty would take out the garbage if he didn't need a cane, besides the couple concrete stairs to get to the cans.

"I don't know."

"Can you do that making her forget thing?"

"You want me to cure her?" Godric asked, already taking a step back. He did not want to share his blood, no matter how much Dusty loved her.

"What? No, if you can get closer to her, can you tell? But you'll have to do that thing where you look into her eyes, and tell her you weren't here, right?"

"I can do that, yet I am not familiar with illnesses. She should go to hospital, like you did."

"Marge's never sick. I want you to tell me you made a mistake because you smelled something in the trash."

"Perhaps. You will bring her down to me?"

"You can come in, Godric. They're asleep."

Godric's eyes looked distant a moment, as he listened, then he said, "No, the girl's not."

"I'll go while you wait in here, and then do that quick moving thing, after I check on why Mel's up. You're hearing is that good."

Godric nodded, and took the step across the threshold into the house, then closed the door behind him.

Dusty grumbled on his way out of the room, "And I keep telling you not to wear white at night. Anyone can see you."

There was a shout of "Hey! What are you doing up?" from deep in the house.

"There's no school tomorrow."

"I don't care. You go to sleep when you're told so you can get up in the morning. You're not staying in bed till noon again."

"You do."

"I work at night. Turn all that off."

"You're such a jerk."

A door slammed.

Godric heard Dusty moving, and also the girl, possibly rearranging furniture, rather than lying down.

Dusty whispered, "Godric," and the short vampire was next to him in an instant.

Marge was asleep. Maybe they didn't need to wake her.

"I smell it here too," he whispered.

"What?" Dusty asked, not hearing him because he was on his bad side.

Godric looked at Dusty and edged towards the bed, still looking at his human friend.

When he reached the bedside, he moved slowly, in case there was something Dusty objected to. Godric also clenched his teeth since he had not bothered to feed recently. Sniffing at humans got him salivating, even when they were ill since he was a deviant who felt no mercy toward the weak or sick.

Leaning towards her face, and her open mouth, Godric did not think the disease was of the lungs or digestion, since it was not stronger on her breath.

Dusty got next to Godric to see what he was doing, because from a few feet away it looked like he was kissing Marge, rather than smelling her mouth.

His hand touched the blanket pulled up on Marge's shoulder, and with he made a gesture with his other hand to inquire if he could pull it down. Dusty took the blanket and folded it down partially. Sometimes, Marge's gown rode up.

Godric smelt it more strongly now, and laid his hand on Dusty's before leaving the room. Racing past the girl's room where there was still the sound of something being dragged across the floor.

Dusty followed at his own pace, after trying to open Melanie's door, and finding the dresser in front of it. He didn't need this shit right now, and shut the door again.

His first question was, "Is Mel still in her room?"

"Yes."

"Okay. So what about Marge?"

"There is illness. Has a doctor not looked at her?"

"No, she hasn't felt sick."

"Take her. Does it cost much?"

"We have insurance, Godric, mostly for Mel, or the next time I get my head cracked open."

"It was cracked open?"

Seeing a curious light come on in Godric's eyes as he stood on his toes trying to see something, now that he was at home without a hat on, Dusty said, "It's an expression."

"What does it mean? I have felt like my head was cracked open, but nothing came out. Just blood and hair."

Not realizing Godric was referring to his short human life, Dusty shook his head because he had seen Godric heal a few wounds, besides some jackass actually shooting Stan. He became a dead jackass, and Dusty didn't blame Stan. The guy shot Stan right in the chest, then aimed the gun at him. If Stan hadn't growled profanities, and gotten the shithead to shoot him a second time, the next bullet would have had Dusty's name on it.

"I'd rather talk about Marge."

"I don't know how she's sick, but I believe she is."

"An infection? Is that why you can smell it?"

"Perhaps. There is flesh that is wrong. That is what is creating what I smell. The smell is similar to something the Greeks said was caused by too much black humor."

"Huh?"

"I know blood, Dusty, not the other fluids."

"Black humor is a fluid?"

"Aren't there four fluids in the body?"

Dusty did a count in his head of what he thought were fluids, and only came up with three, then remembered white pus. However, none of them were black, unless someone was working in a coal mine.

"I better get Marge to a doctor. I can't believe you haven't read of these things yet."

"Disease is depressing, and I don't understand the science to see what's wrong."

Godric's simplistic view of medicine was a relief after Dusty spent days with doctors. He thought everything could be fixed in a hospital, even uterine cancer. Godric had no idea how bodies worked.

Sure, they cut it out, they did treatment, they checked and rechecked, while his daughter carried on about the unfairness of life, and used it to avoid doing schoolwork. So what if she repeated the eighth grade?

Then Dusty was ready to knock Godric's head against a wall too, because the eternal teenager was always optimistic. Even at the end, Godric was a bit too glad to talk about the end of suffering, and that Marge, being human, had a soul so she was blessed, instead of cursed like him. He really didn't want to hear Godric's upbeat bullshit then, and snapped with, "You grieved over Klaus, rather than thinking he went someplace better, and he wasn't even your wife."

The light in Godric's eyes extinguished as he looked downward, and blood started leaking from the corners, and the whites of his eyes turned pinkish.

Dusty had conflicted emotions. It felt good in a cruel way. Godric did not practice what he preached, even though Dusty knew he tried.

He had seen vampire tears before, but not the way the lighting in the room faded, and there was an odd shift, like a camera trick with haziness like in those girl movie flashbacks, and Godric was gone.

Okay, so he knew he hurt Godric's feelings. Dusty was stacking up what they were supposed to really discuss, to go. Considering Godric's age, his emotional maturity was not always on par.

"Godric," Isabel called, walking into the unused dining room, trying to determine if the sheriff was the cause of the fluctuating lighting.

"He left."

"That was him?"

"What?"

Isabel didn't explain what, but raised an eyebrow at him.

"Maybe."

"You were not discussing money," she guessed.

"No, we weren't. My wife died."

"I heard, and I offer my condolences, Dusty. If Godric offended you, he didn't mean to."

"How did you guess?"

"Death is difficult and constant. I avoid it. There comes a point where I think 'he's getting old', then I glamour him to forget me, and move on. I do not seek love, because the price is too high."

"Don't they love you?"

"They think they do. I purposely choose boring men, so I seem that much more exciting. However, they are self-absorbed, are they not, because they never think past now. How can they think they are the first? Their silliness makes it simpler for me. Less regrets. I have become repetitive and boring myself, in that way.

"Godric, on the other hand, does not avoid death. If he seemed unresponsive, it is because he expected it to happen. You will die too. I will, and so will he. Our long lives only prolong its arrival."

"He did say something, and I didn't like it. I reminded him he knew what grief was."

"How?"

"Klaus."

Dusty choked in pain, as his back slammed against the wall. Isabel held him up by the throat, then dropped him to the floor.

"Pig," she spat. "Everything you have is due to Godric, and you dare to hurt him? I could kill you, gladly, but then I'd have to pay a price, and part of that would be knowing that your death would also hurt Godric."

Reeling, from both the injury and Isabel's harsh words, when Dusty had never thought of her this way, he got to his knees, to try to get up, when Stan demanded, "What are you doing?"

"Mind your own business."

"I was coming to see if there was a problem with the power, and find you knocking around Dusty. He's Godric's. You can't touch him."

"I know that, Stan."

"Where is Godric?"

Isabel bit her tongue with a hiss, rather than comment it was Godric dimming the lighting. All the appliances were receiving their electricity, but Godric's vampiric power cancelled light. Rather than the impressive power of becoming mist, Godric was darkness. It would be dangerous, if someone didn't know Godric. It had been years since Isabel had seen it, along with Rex. Many of them kept their special powers secret, either to hide they had nothing impressive, or for emergency defense.

Dusty took Stan's offered hand to get off the floor, even though Stan's help might turn into a backhand across the face for saying Klaus' name.

"I apologize for letting myself act before thinking, Dusty. We also feel things."

"That's no excuse, Isabel. When Godric finds out, at the very least, he'll banish you," Stan accused.

"Perhaps," she replied.

"No," Dusty said.

"A strike from any one of us could kill you. Do not forgive her," Stan urged. This was too good to pass up. This was his moment, at last. He needed Godric.

Stan asked, "Why isn't Godric with you?"

"I upset him," Dusty said, taking a step away from Stan, trying to get the table between them.

"How do you upset Godric … oh, your wife. Yes, I heard," Stan said, trying to think of the right words. Condolence wasn't his strong point. He decided to keep it short with, "Terrible."

Maybe Stan would cut him some slack, or that's what Dusty was hoping for till Isabel snidely inserted, "Yes, I agree. Dusty compared Marge's death to Godric losing Klaus."

"What?" Stan roared, then reduced his volume with, "A wife's a wife, and I don't think I see the parallel. You should go. Can you drive?"

"Yeah, I don't think Isabel meant to hurt me. It was a surprise."

"Uh huh," Stan muttered, not so sure Godric would be tossing anybody out of Dallas but Dusty. For an inferior being with a limited lifespan, that shifter created an erratic rift in their sheriff, and another pisant poking at it was not needed. If Stan was going to be sheriff of another city in Texas, or maybe even one day Dallas, he needed Godric to be happy with him, and everything else … except Isabel.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 19**

Dusty knew Stan was disappointed, since Isabel didn't go anywhere.

Godric asked, "Were you hurt?" when he came into the dining room.

"No," Dusty replied, keeping it short. Apologizing could reopen that wound, and he didn't need Isabel and Stan opening wounds on him. What mostly hurt Dusty was his pride that a woman, because that is how Dusty viewed Isabel primarily, was able to overcome him so easily.

"You don't need to keep working for me," the vampire said calmly, keeping his voice loud enough for Dusty to hear, and sitting across from him at the table.

Like a fifty-something year old man that hadn't worked for anyone else for thirty years was going to use a vampire as a reference? Dusty huffed at Godric's suggestion. Who'd Godric get to do this that wouldn't steal from him? It was difficult to explain to someone who didn't care where money came from or went. Godric even wanted Dusty to sign everything for him. He could. That would give him less reason for coming over here for a while. Maybe he had some sort of death wish. Dusty liked vampires.

"I can still pay you."

"You know I don't like taking money for no reason."

"A gift?"

"Listen, I didn't take classes on spreadsheets and all that other crap to go work in an office. You need someone to keep an eye on things. You have too much money sloshing around to believe in people."

"You don't have to," Godric explained. After a pause, he asked, "Do I need to sign anything tonight?"

"Perhaps."

"Is that yes?"

"It could be no, if you do me a favor."

"What favor?"

"That thing you do to tell people what to do, can you do that to my daughter?"

"I shouldn't."

"I need her to pay attention in school. She's leaving the house in the morning, and not going to school. I could go to jail because she's not old enough to drop out."

"Can't you take her to the building and bring her inside?"

"It'd be simpler for me if you just told her to go."

"You will sign everything that needs to be signed?"

"Tonight."

"And from now on."

"No."

Godric's lips firmed as he exhibited some stubbornness, then he asked, "For how long?"

Dusty could trick Godric and say till the next century, because New Year's was only a couple weeks away, and it meant he could stay home for the last part of December, instead of seeing their streets crowded with out-of-towners, coming to visit their rich Dallas relatives.

Godric's house was empty of all holiday decorations, but while confirming that Isabel was not banished anywhere, she mentioned there might be a party for New Year's. Even vampires had to acknowledge 1999 rolling over to 2000. Oh, that meant Godric was aware there was a holiday coming up.

"Till January, or eighteen days."

"So I will have nothing to sign for eighteen nights, and your daughter's education for which you pay …?"

"A nice retirement home versus a shithole."

Godric's eyebrows lifted at the profanity, and he said, "I wouldn't like that for you. You'll let me know when that happens?"

"I could, but I wouldn't be happy if my daughter ends up dancing around a pole, so I'll offer till February. That will be over forty nights, and you make a couple annual payments that I'll sign for you."

"And she needs to forget she saw me."

"Yes."

"When do you want me to come to your house to talk to her?"

"After you sign these?"

"I don't think so."

"After I sign these?"

"I can come with you after you are done."

Dusty tilted the paperwork to the side, and scrawled some G. Godrics in less time than it took Godric to do one. He was such a stickler for penmanship, and his signature was not that impressive, in Dusty's opinion.

While he signed, Dusty told Godric what he was signing, while the vampire pretended not to care.

After everything was put back away, he asked, "You ready to go?"

"Yes."

"Don't you have a coat?"

"Do I need one? She's not going to remember I arrived without one."

"I guess not."

Dusty regretted not getting Godric to tell Melanie to do more than just return to attending school and giving her classes her best effort.

He understood the vampire's explanation that not everyone was talented in all areas, and if he set an unrealistic goal that she could not attain with his suggestion, it would hurt her. However, that didn't stop Melanie from being a big pain in the ass outside school.

***** Starting the New Year with a Bang *****

Dusty had been to the main nest for New Year's Eve to play cards, so was surprised when he returned in February to resume having Godric sign his own shit, and Stan stormed in, demanding, "You had sex with Isabel for the New Year. What about me?"

"Huh?" Dusty asked, glaring at Stan. Was he vampire drunk or something?

Godric shrugged and murmured, "Why does it matter whether I did or not?"

Dusty doubted anything happened with Isabel. No man could nonchalantly make it sound like nothing. Isabel was incredible, and he suspected she was even better than that without her clothes on.

Shifting uncomfortably, he asked, "Should I go?"

"You cannot favor one of us over the other," Stan accused, ignoring Dusty. "You said that."

"What do you suggest?"

"You owe me."

"What do you think I owe you?"

Stan glanced at Dusty before vaguely replying, "What do you think?"

"You don't want to consider it?"

"You're trying to confuse me," Stan snarled.

"If you insist, Stan," Godric replied, Dusty detected a sad note in the vampire's voice, and didn't expect him to add, "Go Dusty. Stan will pester me until he gets what he thinks he is due."

Dusty was confident Stan did not want what it sounded like because Stan liked women. Big-breasted, teased hair, and tightly clothed women. Besides, he heard Godric's dispirited tone. Whatever Stan wanted, Godric was not enthusiastic about it.

It was not until Dusty pulled into his garage that he realized that it may have been a ploy to get him to go so Godric would not need to sign anything. It was little wonder that Stan said something so strange, and so obviously false.

***** Blah, Blah, adolescent emergency, Blah *****

God damn it. Whenever she wanted to sneak in past curfew, the old man was creeping about the house. The only thing remotely interesting about her father was him being so boring that some creep hired him for an exorbitant amount of money to do things for him because he was the last person anyone would suspect. Dad never said, but it had to be criminal. Mel couldn't figure out what it was, and if her mother knew, she took it to the grave with her.

She could see him through the window.

He was in his chair, with his boots up on the ottoman, a glass filled with ice and Coke on the table next to him, watching late night television. Old people were supposed to go to bed early after eating dinner at three in the afternoon. Mom had been fifteen years younger, in seemingly better health since she didn't need a cane or a hearing aid, and was a much better cook.

Good, the phone rang.

She watched him raise the remote to turn off the television, before answering it. Back door … he couldn't hear both the telephone and things going on in the house clearly. She was screwed when he watched television because instead of turning it up loud, he had the captioning on.

She had just tippy toed through the kitchen, when she heard her father's voice getting closer.

"No, no. Let me get the numbers.

"No, you can remember the numbers if I read them to you.

"Well, I don't trust them.

"Really? You may think that, but I think I'm going to drive next week to Shreveport and rip Bobby a new asshole.

"Huh? No, he doesn't have a medical problem. I meant I was going to beat him up. I don't like his condescending attitude.

"Don't call Eric. I'm a big boy, and so are you.

"Here's the numbers …

"I am going to read them to you, and then you tell me if you agree or disagree.

"You haven't heard one yet.

"No, I am not asking you to agree to the number one. Stop goofing off. This is real money, that's why you need to pay attention.

"If you're broke, who pays me? I'm too old to break Stan in as my boss, though free liquor might get me considerin' it.

"No, I'd work for you or Stan. I have no idea what the rest of y'all do.

"Alrighty, this fund, I think it's gonna tank because it's invested in …

"Eric? Eric's in it, but you don't have to do everything Eric does.

"Do you … no, I don't know that for certain. Could you explain to me why …

"No, I don't understand what you mean by golden touch. Is he King Midas?

"I wouldn't be surprised if it was Eric, because Bobby's a grade A boob.

"No, I don't like him.

"Eric? How can I give you an opinion about Eric? I already know you think his shit don't smell, Godric."

Mel had been eavesdropping on the one half of the conversation, but now that the crime lord himself was on the phone, she hustled down the hall to pick up an extension.

She missed part of the conversation because her father was saying, "I know that," when she picked up.

"Then why did you say it?" a calm, male voice asked.

"Never mind. So whatever I say, you'll do whatever Eric does because that's what Eric is doing?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"That is what I want, Dusty."

"If Eric jumped off a bridge, would you jump off a bridge?"

How many times had Mel heard that question directed at her?

"He'd probably push me off first, so I wouldn't have to jump."

"Okay then, good night."

"Good night, Dusty."

That was it? No mention of drugs, guns, bank robbing, knocking over a casino, horse or dog racing?

Mel hung up after she heard two clicks, and then picked the phone back up, and *69ed.

The phone was answered, there was a pause before the calm voice asked, "What did I forget?"

"It's me," she answered.

"Who is this, and why are you calling me from that phone number?"

Shit. Mel thought someone as old as her father wouldn't have caller ID. He hated everything new, especially when it was free or cost practically nothing. There was still a rotary phone in his bedroom.

"Stop trifling with me and answer."

Trifling? What was this, the SATs?

"It's Melanie, Godric."

"What is wrong?" he replied.

That was not the answer she expected, but she took the opportunity to say, "What's wrong is you bossing my father around."

"I don't understand. I pay Dusty to work for me."

"Doing what?"

"Whatever I ask him to do."

"Like kill people?" she prompted.

"Who is dead?"

"You are if you don't leave my father alone."

"May I speak to him please?"

Mel hung up the phone. Between saying her name and caller id, she was so screwed. She should have stayed out all night.

***** Blah, Blah, adolescent emergency, Blah *****

A moment later, like just as soon as she hung up the phone, the doorbell rang. Melanie ran into her room, shut the door, and kept the lights out as she stripped off her clothes and changed into her pajamas. No one came to see her father, so it had to be one of her idiot friends.

Hearing her dad coming, she jumped in bed and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders, pretending to be asleep.

Without knocking, her door opened, and the overhead light got turned on.

"Wha...?" she feigned.

"Can it. You okay?"

"Huh?"

"She's fine," Dusty called out loudly, before saying, "What's wrong with you? Do not call that number unless the bloody stumps where your hands used to be are also on fire. Get it?"

"What?"

"Do not call that number unless you are dying."

"What, it was just a joke."

"You do not want to get involved in their jokes, Mel. Anyone can answer that phone."

"You call it."

"Yeah, and I know who I want to speak to, and anyone else knows they better put someone else on or else."

"Right," she huffed. Her father was a jerkoff. She couldn't wait to turn eighteen, go to college, and get out of this hellhole.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the books or True Blood. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

**Day Man**

**Chapter 20**

"This is a laundromat," Mel complained as her father parked his Cadillac in front of Tiny Bubbles in a handicapped spot.

"Yeah."

"Shouldn't underworld crime bosses be in the back rooms of a pizza place or a pork store?"

"Pork store?"

"Yeah, like in the _Sopranos_. Hey, how about a go-go bar?"

No matter how much he told his daughter to ignore his work, and that his boss was not some criminal, she continued to suggest Godric was a dangerous and shady individual. Dusty understood why no one could see him. He still looked like he did forty years ago.

"Godric does not have anything to do with go-go bars."

"I didn't mean go-go dancing, I meant a strip club."

"You have no idea, so could you shut your mouth? You're going to end up looking like an idiot," Dusty warned her, while pulling open the door. He had not been around here in a while. Godric rarely left the house, as far as Dusty knew. He had no idea how vampires were going to tell people they existed, or even why they should. It was craziness. Godric did not sound happy about it, yet he thought it was something Dusty's daughter should hear from them, rather than tomorrow, like the rest of the world.

"I'm not the one that picked here. Your boss needed to do a couple loads, and couldn't take time out of his busy schedule for whatever this is?" Mel goaded Dusty further by suggesting, "He better not be dressed in something ridiculous because it's laundry day."

Actually, Dusty could see Godric. He was dressed for his apparent age in blue jeans with a Cowboys sweatshirt covering his tattoos. He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on the top of a closed washer, looking bored. His skin was almost human-looking tonight. From experience, Dusty knew that meant Godric had blood recently.

Stan had his back against a wall, while reading a newspaper.

"Is he here?" Mel asked.

"Yes."

"That gorilla over there his bodyguard?"

Dusty initially thought his daughter was loosely pointing at Stan, but there was a customer that was even bigger stuffing his clothes into a washer.

"Can you keep it down? This is a real laundromat."

"Really?" she sarcastically replied.

Her father was having her on. He had a strange sense of humor. Okay, dad was the oldest one in here. If he worked for Godric for forty years, he'd have to be as old or older.

The bearded cowboy, who seemed to share her father's fashion sense for boots and hats, reading the newspaper was the next oldest man. He looked like someone her father could get along with.

"Him," she guessed, pointing directly at Stan.

"Close, but no," Dusty replied, moving towards Godric. He knew the vampires could hear them.

His daughter watched as her father went near the dork with the crappy Caesar cut waiting for his laundry. This joke was wearing thin. There was not going to be a major, world-changing announcement tomorrow night, and if there was, what would his slimy boss, Godric, have to do with it?

The teen stood up straight, made a hand gesture, and the cowboy and two others headed to the back of the shop with him. Dusty followed, after looking to see that she was coming.

Was Godric in the back, out of sight, and these were his lookouts? What a paranoid prick.

Her dad had been working for this tool since before she was born, and if he was going to lead the cops to Godric, he wouldn't have brought her along.

Dusty held up the section of counter for her. He contemplated he had no idea what would replace that look of disgust on her face in only minutes. She thought vampires and other movie monsters were lame. At the very least, he hoped the jaded veneer would not crack wide open in shock and horror. He was alive, well, and never been bit by any of them.

Though he had to be worried about vampires revealing themselves. People could be incredibly resistant to change. This wasn't real change, since vampires were always around, but logic like that wouldn't mean anything to some people. Like politicians.

Godric and Stan were standing, the others had taken seats.

Stan said, "You can do the introductions, Dusty."

"All right. Melissa, this is Stan."

Melissa had heard the name before. He was one of dad's poker buddies. The tall man barely tipped his hat at her, backed up, and sat down on the couch.

For Stan, this was going to be entertaining, besides being a taste of the disaster that was about to occur worldwide.

"This is Pablo."

The short Mexican stood, held his hand out, and let his cool fingers briefly touch hers. Pablo was in favor of the upcoming event. He liked humans, and wished he could interact with them more without causing suspicion.

"And Farrell."

Farrell did not stand, but gave her a nod. Two cold hands might clue her in prematurely. This was Godric's show. Tomorrow, Farrell would be on the evening news in Dallas with Katherine.

"And lastly, Godric."

Mel barely gave him a closer look before blurting out, "Bullshit."

"I am Godric," the vampire calmly stated.

She guessed that sounded sort of like the man she spoke to on the phone close to ten years ago, but Mel knew Godric had to be older. Anyone could imitate that way of speaking. This could be Godric, Jr. or Godric III.

"Would you like to sit down?" he asked, pulling out the chair closest to her at the table.

Rather than having a deck of cards and a chip caddy, like it had in the old days, there was a small six-pack sized cooler on it.

"Let's get it over with," she said, plopping down. Getting another four people involved seemed too extreme for a joke on her father's part.

She asked, as her father sat next to her, "You traffic in organs too?"

"What kind of organs?" Godric asked, seating himself opposite them.

"Kidneys, hearts, or whatever you can make money off of."

Godric looked surprised, and then said, "I have nothing to do with feeding ghouls."

Dusty murmured, "Ignore her. She's trying to make a joke."

"I think she meant British food. _Ghastly_ is the word you want," Farrell said.

Godric looked at him, unsure of what Farrell was saying, and Farell replied, "Kidney pie. It's crap."

Stan agreed, "It is. My …" he stopped himself from mentioning his old hunting hounds not stomaching that crap. Any reference to dogs still saddened Godric. " ... friend makes a good point."

Farrell looked at Stan. Since when were they friends?

Godric sat still, waiting for the tangential conversation to die. He had no opinion on the taste of organ meat, and that is not why they were here.

"You'll realize soon why we could not meet before," Godric started.

"There has been a scientific breakthrough, good for medicine, with artificial blood. An unexpected discovery because it has the right qualities to sustain life for those afflicted with a disease, that has long been hidden."

"What disease?" Dusty asked. He thought Godric was going to tell Mel he was a vampire, before everyone else learned of it.

Godric slowly answered, "The one I have. I cannot eat normal foods, and my skin burns rapidly when exposed to sunlight. I gain minor benefits such as keener sight and hearing, and I do not age properly."

Mel's fingers beat a quick staccato on the surface of the table. She had to listen to someone lie about his age? Christ.

"Those afflicted have found the only sustenance they can tolerate is human blood, and this new synthetic blood has been found to be nutritionally equivalent."

Dusty heavily said, "Even I am having a tough time with this."

Mel looked at her father. Wasn't he in on this bullshit?

"We're too terrifying otherwise. We are sick," Godric answered.

"Yup," Melissa agreed, meaning sick in the head sort of way.

"I think you are missing a few essential things to prove you're alive enough to be sick," Dusty reminded him.

"We are not to allow ourselves to be examined."

"That puts a huge hole in your 'sick' story. Doctors love to poke and prod."

"This is not my idea to explain our condition in such a way," Godric admitted.

"Condition? You are room temperature, don't breathe, and you don't have a heartbeat."

Okay, now her father was going overboard. The person across from them was alive, therefore he breathed and his blood circulated to bring oxygen to his cells.

"I agree," Godric replied, "but I cannot contradict the majority."

"I thought you were in charge. Why'd you have a vote?"

"I am only in charge of Dallas."

"Stan, what do you think?" Dusty asked. Stan didn't take shit from no one.

"We should treat humans as cattle."

Dusty stared at Stan, then asked, "Are you trying to cover up that you didn't bother to vote?"

"Yeah, but I'm not old enough to have a voice on this."

"You are?" Dusty asked Godric, who he knew was unimaginably old.

"Yes."

"Are you in favor of it?"

"If we must, I think the truth best."

"What is the truth?" Mel asked.

"I am vampire," Godric admitted.

"You gonna put some plastic fangs in your mouth now?" she returned.

"Plastic? Those would not be effective."

"Just show her," Dusty urged. That did it for him, besides Godric deciding he could be as immovable as a three ton boulder.

Godric looked at the tabletop before he turned his face to the side. Mel saw it happen in profile since he opened his mouth wide. Fangs that were not there a moment ago were on his front teeth with a snap.

"How'd you do that?"

They were gone as fast as they appeared, as Godric turned to look at her. "I'm vampire. All of us here are."

"What kind of stupid trick is this?"

"It's no trick, Mel. Godric thought you should know before the announcement, and you weren't gonna believe me."

"What's there to believe, except you got dementia."

Godric's head jerked, and he murmured, "There is no need to become disrespectful."

"Never mind," Dusty said. Melanie was in a mean mood, and could feel foolish later when they went public. Perhaps this was a taste of what was going to happen tomorrow night.

"Never mind?" Mel repeated. "Why did you drag me to an old laundromat? I got things to do."

"It was my idea," Godric said. "Your father has worked for me for a long time. He keeps me a secret because it cannot be explained. Now, that it will no longer be a secret, you might resent that he never told you, and not listen to why that was how it needed to be. I have not visibly aged in all the time he has known me. It may seem a blessing, yet being this ill is not a fair trade. Before this artificial blood was made, anyone afflicted had to commit crimes against others simply to survive."

Farrell liked the way Godric approached this. Publicly, vampires could not be proud they killed for decades or centuries, or this would not work.

"So you're saying you drink my father's blood?"

"Never."

"This is stupid."

"Mel, they're not like in the movies. They don't drink someone's blood till they're dead," Dusty explained.

"So you bite people, get the blood, and no one's reporting all these bite marks?"

"I do use my teeth, that you've already seen, but I'd rather not go into the details," Godric replied.

Dusty had never seen any of them actually eat, but had seen blood on some of their mouths, especially Stan's. Godric was only the one time, but he was completely covered in blood after he snapped after Klaus was killed. It was a result of tearing others apart, not drinking their blood.

"So what else can you do to prove you're a vampire?"

"I am not a carnival act."

Dusty could not help the chuckle that escaped him.

"Dusty, you were attempting to prevent me reading a book," Godric reminded him.

Mel and Dusty noticed a smile creep onto Farrell's lips. He was sitting beside Godric, so his sheriff did not see his opinion regarding such an offense.

"Can't you show me something other than your teeth?" Mel asked, thinking it was a good trick, but not impossible to fake.

Godric looked to Farrell next to him and asked, "What are Katherine and you planning?"

"Just talking, after we … arrange to have our graphics shown with the Japanese discovery."

"That is what I thought," Godric said. "There is no demonstration planned. We have lived amongst you, but could not interact with any of you during the day."

"What about what my father said about your heart not beating?"

"That would mean I am dead, not ill." Dusty's mouth dropped open as he realized the way Godric turned his gaze on Mel, and clearly said, "I am not dead. I am simply very sick with a disease that has no cure. I have avoided sunlight and was forced to drink human blood, since that was the only thing that could sustain my life till now. My heart beats, and I breathe air."

"You …" he started, then quieted.

Godric replied, "We cannot be that much different, Dusty. Our disease is terrifying enough, without that."

Dusty glanced at his daughter, who looked stunned.

"How long's this going to go on?"

"Long enough for her to learn it."

From where he sat, Stan commented, "Are you sure she's yours, Dusty? She seems dense."


End file.
